Straight On Till Morning
by starlight2005
Summary: SETH/ATEMU: Love isn't about lollipops and candy canes. It's real and it hurts. But it has its good times, you just have to know how to treasure them.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Straight on Till Morning **

**Author: **

**Pairing: Seth/Atemu**

**Summary: Last nights on Earth aren't always enough to prove that love is eternal. Not when you forget who you are anyway.**

**A/N: A one-shot just to get me writing again. I've been debating way too long and have, unfortunately, forgotten how Prideshipping should be written. I am so sorry. This hopefully isn't as angsty as my usual works. If it is, well, let's just hope I get to write a sequel for this. **

**Also, this might possibly begin my AU!Verse, which I intend to finish before the year is over. Quite possibly, it might be my last collection of fics (or drabbles, if you see it fit). **

**I would really love to know what you think about this, so please drop a review after reading. Thank you. **

**Though I said this is a one-shot, I decided to divide it into two parts, so Part II will be posted any time this week. Hopefully. **

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**Straight On Till Morning**

Part I

_In which Seth convinces Atemu that there's more to duty than death... _

It started simple enough, with a nightmare.

At pre-dawn, when the sky cascaded in light hues of pink and blue, while most lay sleeping, Atemu stood silently. Morose, disheartening images had never been an issue to him, having found a way to block them early on; yet here he was, rudely awaken from his slumber. Pondering. Mere minutes ago, another dimension existed, where he and his cousin were rivals in a game so similar with the beasts in their Shadow Games; where there were structures even taller than Egypt's statues of Horus and the other deities and horseless carriages.

A different land, and Atemu was immersed in it until darkness gulped it whole and a maniacal laughter echoed in his head. It had sound so familiar. He just could not determine whose voice it was--could possibly be.

"My pharaoh."

An eyebrow raised in question and reprimand. He turned, eyes fixed on the bowed figure in front of him. Seth. Had he not been sleeping a while ago?

"You know better than to call me that now."

"I will not take your place. I refuse, cousin."

A naive declaration, for pharaoh's word was law and he has decreed that his cousin would replace him. (There was whispering among the crowd before the guards had started cheering for the priest, until said priest turned around and left. It was quite disconcerting to comprehend what Seth's action meant. After a while, Atemu had figured out but he did not have the time to run after him.) There was never any doubt to who the heir would be, for one only needed to check the bloodlines and bloodlines never lied.

Yet his blue-eyed High Priest was determined to have his way, as it seemed. Atemu could only sigh as he wrapped two slender arms around the other's neck, bringing him closer. He recognized the determination on his cousin's eyes, knew for a fact that despite having been told to let the issue drop, Seth refused to let his pharaoh die.

"You know truly that I will never accept it," Seth whispered, bringing their foreheads together; their breath mingling. They were close, an inch separating their mouths.

Carmine eyes gleamed in understanding, sympathy.

"I love you, Seth." And it was a declaration worth repeating, so Atemu did with a quick brush of lips. Breathless, he confirmed, "My death shall never change that."

Seth broke away, turning instead to the horizon, a balcony overlooking the span of the entire kingdom. He frowned, refused to meet his lover's gaze. He didn't understand. This was something both of them could fight for; protect. What this was between them deserved cherishing. Why let it go so easily for a prophecy? Atemu's apathy when it came to his life infuriated the priest all of a sudden.

"Spare me of your sentimentalities, Atemu. I will not let you waste your life for a prophecy that we do not have assurance of working. Not when there are—"

"What, Seth? Options? Alternatives?"

A pause.

"You know there are none. You were there when the council—"

"How do we know that they aren't lying? My father was friends with half of them. How do we know that they're not just," Seth faltered, choked on the next words, "—finishing what Akunadin had started?"

Guilt flooded Seth's eyes. Atemu had forgiven his uncle, understood that it was an honest desire to want the best for his only son. He needed his cousin to see that--that Akunadin meant well, despite his actions. And it had frightened him, as he watched his uncle's lifeless body slump to the ground, felled by Seth's unforgiving blade. Obviously, Seth hasn't learned to yet.

"Seth—"

"No, Atemu. Don't you understand? This between us, we can't just drop it or throw it away because of a prophecy or a looming threat," Seth reasoned. His voice sounded panicked, pained. "This isn't about my father anymore. Not about the kingdom, not about the Council. It's about us."

Atemu shook his head, clearly not getting his priest's point. He was stubborn; both of them were and it was evident in their postures: stiff, unreasonable, minds made. Determined to have their ways. He sighed loudly, enough to fully catch Seth's attention.

"What do you want me to do, Seth?" He was tired. Of the threats, of the expectations; of sacrificing Seth and what they had because he had a duty to his people. He couldn't understand why Seth would not let him go with what he had decided. "You cannot expect me to let my people die!"

Seth was quiet, hearing the sound of the palace guards moving to start their morning rounds. Outside their private chambers, a flurry of activity began, from the lowest of servants to the palace guards. Soon enough, the High Priests would awake and the preparations for the Sealing Ceremony—three moons away, but preparations needed to be done—will start. He looked back at his cousin, a plan in mind.

"Let me pay for my father's sins."

"No."

Atemu moved to place a hand on his shoulder, as if it could steady him from Seth's suggestion. However, the moment that he did, his priest had taken a step backwards so that they were physically apart. Seth shook his head. Atemu would not die. Not if he had anything to say about it.

"Tell me why not, cousin," he dared.

"Because you do not deserve to die."

"And you do?" Seth queried, annoyed at the hypocrisy of Atemu's arguments. "I do not need any protecting. Not from you, most especially. I'm supposed to be the one who's protecting you, Atemu."

"Seth," Atemu muttered, sagging on the chair behind him. He looked up, met Seth's gaze as his priest slowly knelt in front of him. Seth took his hands and wrapped them with his own. It was a plea; broken. "You can't."

The priest smiled in spite of that. "I can. The prophecy needed the blood of a kin. It does not necessarily refer to you, cousin," he replied, emphasized on the last word. He felt Atemu shudder.

"Who do you think should be there for the people? At this crucial moment, they need you alive."

Atemu blinked. "You cannot expect me to just let you die, Seth!"

Seth stood up then, eyes grown cold and fixed.

"And you expect me to feel nothing for what's going to happen to you? I'm here to protect you, Atemu! Don't you understand that? I'm your cousin. I'm your priest." Seth didn't look at Atemu as he followed through with, "I'm your lover. Does this mean nothing to you? Do I mean anything at all?"

"Of course you do!"

"Then explain to me why suddenly you're willing to die!"

"I have a duty. To my people, to this kingdom. To keep it safe. As pharaoh. I can't be selfish and hide behind your back just because I want us to grow old together in each other's arms," Atemu reasoned. "We do not have a happy ending, Seth. Not this time."

A bitter chuckle.

"Funny how easily you believe that." And it's all antagonism again, as if they've never crossed the line between cousins and lovers; blurred the lines between duty and romance. They were back to where they've begun, pushing and pulling, arguing because they felt they have to. Not because they had to. It didn't appear as such, but Atemu sure felt like it.

Seth's refusal to believe in the prophecy only amounted to one thing.

"Amazing how you can reject destiny so simply," Atemu countered. And it made him wonder why he was wasting his time with his cousin this morning when he could be talking with Mahado and the other priests about the preparations. Why he was even willing to listen to his cousin's reasons when he could easily order Seth to go away and never interfere with his plans again. It made him think if Seth actually had a point. Maybe he had. Why wasn't Atemu considering it, then?

Hitting the wall was totally unexpected, then. Atemu's eyes widened in surprise, saw Seth's own blue eyes narrow at him, blazing with fury and fury. And grief?

He tried to slap the hand on his chest away, knew that his priest would never really hurt him. The grip, however, was strong enough to keep him plastered on the wall. The demigod bristled. His head actually hurt from the impact.

"Let me go this instant," he warned.

"Or what, dear cousin? Will you call the guards? Have me killed?" Seth mocked. Underneath him, Atemu struggled. It would be nice if he actually had the upper hand. Unfortunately, as much as he was more agile than his brunet of a cousin, he was also smaller, lither compared to Seth's tall, more muscled figure. Which gave Seth the advantage.

Atemu conceded. "What's your point? Be quick about it."

Seth grasped his hand, directed it over his heart. Atemu gasped, failed to stifle it at the feel of Seth's wild heartbeat. His heart was racing so fast.

"Seth..."

"Hush," his cousin said, claiming his lips for a kiss. It was slow and gentle, contrary to their fevered kisses. This was bittersweet, long as if this were the only way that Seth could send his message. When they parted, they were both panting, cheeks flushed and eyes already glittering. Seth opened Atemu's clenched fist, putting his palm back on his heart. "This—"

Transferred to his own heart, beating on a calmer pace.

"—and this, is life, Atemu. What keeps us living, what we live for," Seth continued. "This. The rhythm of our hearts beating together. This is what we cherish. What I cherish the most. I understand that you need to protect Egypt. I do."

Seth kissed Atemu again, leaned down with measured movements, all restrained energy and strength as he kept Atemu on the wall. Atemu closed his eyes the instant their lips met, couldn't stop the way his body arched to Seth's touch. He was able to keep that low sound from being ripped from his throat as Seth kissed him deeper, though. And when they broke apart for air, he fixed his gaze on his cousin. Seth let him go, let him fall slowly to the floor, leaning on the wall.

A hand grasped his chin, tilted it upwards so he could meet Seth's eyes.

"Believe me, I understand. But there has to be another way."

Atemu closed his eyes, defeated for this moment.

"Alright, Seth. We'll look for an alternative."

Both of them knew, though, that this was far from over.

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_Part II summary: Define desperation. _


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I apologize. I really should be working on Photo Effect or Blood is Red, but I can't leave this supposed one-shot hanging. Apparently, this isn't a one-shot anymore. I'm stuck to three parts because I can't keep it short as I had wanted to. Too many loopholes, you know? I guess it's not quite easy to write one shots when you introduce more than enough elements. So anyway, I'm really sorry for the inconvenience. I hope you still like this. **

**I never had the chance to reply to those who reviewed my first chapter. Let me take this opportunity to thank them: THANK YOU.

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**Part II**

_In which promises are made without intentions of being kept _

Desperation was choking on air, feeling walls close on you and falling in a bottomless pit. It was a feeble attempt at surviving, as you gasp for oxygen, fight your way through your paranoia as the walls get nearer and claw for something that can stop you from falling. Attempts which failed, which would fail—and Atemu felt it, the deadline nearing while they remained clueless about alternatives for the ceremony. He felt it in the way an imaginary line existed now between him and Seth, driving them apart.

One month ago, he and Seth had agreed to search for other options; had promised that no one would die until everything had been exhausted. And Seth had been adamant in leading the research, determined to prove to his cousin that they were alright, that there was nothing to worry about. But they both knew just how far progress was—or lack thereof. It was truly disappointing however expected; and it hurt now to look at his priest who spent most of the day looking.

"My pharaoh."

Atemu sighed, turned to greet his friend. Mahado bowed before standing up. He had always been a couple of inches taller than the monarch. Then again, it was never an issue, was it? From the way Mahado treated him, it was always him who wielded greater power. They stood overlooking the palace courtyard, where most of the trainees for the guards were resting. Seth watched them, timing and preparing for the next drill. This was one of those rare times when Seth did not bury himself with papyrus scrolls and reports from other lands about the ceremony.

"I feel that he is drifting away from me," Atemu whispered, truth he did not want to admit.

It was unfair that Seth would suddenly detach himself and prefer the company of facts that held no—as proven—importance. He had imagined that with only a few weeks left, they would be closer. Maximizing the remaining time they had together. It would have been the most logical thing to do would it not? Apparently, he and Seth had different plans and from the looks of it, Seth had no intentions of involving his cousin in his. The knowledge stung.

"He is trying to save you," Mahado explained, for the first time defending the person he always fought with. Mahado did not need to know Seth's real intentions; he simply understood. That's what he would do; what he would be doing should he be in Seth's place, after all. "Give him time, sire."

"I don't _have_ the luxuryof time." Atemu clarified, shuddering as his eyes landed on his cousin once more. "He… he doesn't even spare me a glimpse anymore. As if I no longer exist. What is he trying to do?"

A month after their agreement in their chambers, Seth had pulled away. It was gradual, starting with late nights spent individually because Seth was tired and he only wanted to sleep the remainder of the night off. One night, then two; then his cousin volunteering to go to the farthest towns of the kingdom supposedly to help the army patrol the grounds. Atemu hadn't wanted his priest to go. Had actually feared that Seth really was avoiding him until Bakura struck again, killing the priests in the town that Seth had chosen. Two weeks without the blue-eyed cousin of his made him antsy, kept him wondering if the other was doing well. Upon Seth's return, he refused to meet the pharaoh's gaze and had refrained from confronting Atemu even on those times when an outburst from High Priest Seth was expected.

There was something wrong between them.

Mahado sighed, placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "There's no need to fret. He is well. Do not doubt what he feels for you. He truly cares. He's only… pressured to come up with a solution and you know that."

"I know… but that doesn't change the fact that he should avoid me, does it?"

Atemu returned the sigh, made it known that he was thankful of his cousin's actions, no matter how unwarranted they may be. But the thing was, he didn't need alternatives, had accepted as a fact that there really was no other way sans sacrificing himself. A sealing ceremony, where _his _blood was shed to replace the blood spilled to create the Millennium Items. It scared him, of course. Scared him more than the prospect of losing Seth in his obsession.

"Sire?" The palace guard's question stopped him from continuing as Mahado took a step away. As if embarrassed to be standing equally beside his king. When he received the attention, the guard added, "The Council has called for you, my lord. The people have begun questioning what you intend to do with the attacks."

"_Attacks?" _The pharaoh scowled.

"Yes, sire. We have had 4 attacks lately."

Atemu stiffened. "When did this happen?"

"I—"

"Do you know when the attack happened?"

The guard fidgeted, looked sharply at Mahado. Atemu spared him another glare to focus on his priest. Mahado guiltily avoided his gaze. A swish of robes was the only sign to show that Atemu had already left the room.

When the two doors opened with a bang, the pharaoh's high priests and priestess all sat up. Karimu and Shadi glanced at each other in confusion, part guilt and doubt. Ishizu bowed her head while Seth stood unfazed. He saw Atemu's glare and met it with his own apathetic stare. Mahado followed in closely, the truth so clearly expressed in his normally stoic, angular face. Seth resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He always thought the man didn't have the ability to lie to the pharaoh.

"How many died?" Atemu gritted out.

"My lord?" Shadi tried.

"You know what I am talking about." The pharaoh's body screamed _don't mess with me right now _and his priests knew it. Was familiar with it despite rarely seeing it.

"Those were minor attacks, sire."

"Do not feed me half-truths and whatnots. _Tell me how many died."_

Everyone was quiet, exchanged glances as if coercing each other to speak up. Of course no one did. Quite unexpectedly, it was Seth who broke the ice among them.

"An entire town was massacred. Another ten died in the next town. The last two attacks left 5 dead soldiers and 15 civilians wounded."

If Atemu was disturbed by the way Seth icily answered, he didn't show it. He felt cold like he was submerged into the Nile on a rainy day—freezing, uncomfortable—upon hearing the number of casualties and why:

"No one bothered to tell me. Why is that?"

"Ph—"

"Didn't anyone think that I would find out?" Atemu slammed his fist on the table. "That I would figure this out _eventually?_ I should have you all persecuted for this… obstruction. I should. You are my priests. I trusted you all and this—matters like this, you hide from me?"

Mahado shook his head; explained, "What we did was wrong, forgive us, my lord. We had only wanted to alleviate the burden on your shoulders. It wasn't made with the intention to hide things from —"

"Mahado, this stops now. Tell me why not one of you even thought that hiding these things from me will do us any good," Atemu interrupted. He saw his friend close his mouth, mumbling a quiet apology right after. He saw Seth after that, unforgiving and determined. Somehow he just knew that it was his cousin's idea. A couple of tense minutes followed, with the priests avoiding his gaze and Atemu cradling his face in his hands. So many people died. No, sorry—_massacred._ He needed to do something, anything.

"Tell me…" It would have been a satisfying sight, his priests nearly bolting at the verbal lashing they expected from him, had the matters been simple. "… do we have the alternatives that you were so sure of, Seth?"

"I thought so."

At Seth's silence, the pharaoh stood up and left the room. If he heard shouts of alarm as a chair was thrown angrily at the wall, he didn't bother to react.

XXX

As expected, Seth confronted him before they retire that night. The moment he opened the door, Seth dragged him in, pulling him flush into his embrace. Without saying something, Seth then pushed him away, eyes blazing. Angry. Atemu nearly scoffed.

"Don't make me explain, Seth. You have no right to keep that away from me," he said. Accusing. Tired. As he had known in an instant that it was Seth who came up with the idea.

Seth didn't answer immediately. When he finally did, it was a simple, "Who said I wanted you to explain?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I had my reasons," was the off-handed reply.

"Well, I want to know. Why don't you tell me these things anymore? I'm pharaoh, for crying out loud!" Atemu nearly shouted. He watched as Seth simply stared, waiting for his anger to dissipate. It only made him angrier, though. Turning, Atemu punched the wall nearest to him and felt the fire shoot up to his arm as his nerves cried out in pain. Pain was good. Grounded him. Told him this was real, that he wasn't having a nightmare like the ones that he had had over the past days. It made him feel more like a man in pain, hurting and wanting never to stop the throbbing, rather than some helpless, pathetic little boy who lost his father to a poisoned cup of wine. Who had to step up to the place because he was heir, inheriting a kingdom that he had never been old enough to see flourish or build itself.

"Atemu—"

Seth's voice was all about trying to get him to see sense. Calming him, level-headed Seth as always. See, Atemu wasn't in the slightest mood to be "level-headed". Or calm. Or logical. He wanted to be furious, raging like the Shadow Beasts that had killed innocent people just because of their vile, dark nature. He wanted to feel his body react to the fire that's burning within, feel the pain of everything that's happening. And he didn't know why his line of thinking was that way, only that he felt it and it never stopped.

"Leave me," he declared.

He didn't know he was trembling until Seth's arms wound up around him, pulling him back to Seth. Back to chest; so close together. It used to make him feel safe, looked after. But now it felt out of place—amidst the chaos and the death, Seth's obsession and the deadline above his head, Atemu no longer felt safe as he used to. And it scared him to know this: what he thought was untouched, constant was changing and he was powerless to stop it.

"Seth, please," Atemu begged. The pharaoh wielded the greatest power in the land and with it was the responsibility of looking after his people. Making sure that they didn't get hurt and in this case, _killed_.

Maybe in another life, what he and Seth shared wouldn't have to feel so wrong. Selfish. Maybe they would have a better chance in the next life because they deserved it after their sacrifices now. But right now, the more people killed and the more Seth fixated on the need to save Atemu, the more Atemu was convinced that there was no solution. There was no other option.

Then again, how on Earth would Seth, whose determination led him to travel to the farthest towns with hopes of saving his cousin, take this? That the person he's trying to save did not want—_flat out refused _to be saved?

Atemu didn't like the answer.

"You're not dying, you know that, right?" Seth tried again.

"I will and you know it, cousin. It doesn't matter if I die through the ceremony, or to whatever solution is available. My blood will be shed." There was a finality in his voice that scared him and yet made him bolder. Made him powerful to convince Seth to stop. That _yes, thank you very much for trying to save me but this time, you really have to let me go._

Seth was exasperated when he replied, "We're not starting again, are we? Because you know for a fact that I'm not going to stop. Even if you have to lock me in the dungeon and take my scrolls from me."

"And what do you intend to do? Assuming that I do as you have said, huh, Seth?" The monarch challenged, all stiff posture, crossed arms and raised eyebrow. It always made him look more unapproachable. And it always also made him look hostile.

He could see that the brunet was pissed. He saw it in the way Seth's expressive blue eyes glowed with an icy anger that made him nervous and fidgety. He saw it in Seth's locked jaw, flushed cheeks and tense body language. He had never seen a more enrapturing sight. So when Atemu pulled his cousin for a kiss, bruising and more passionate than the kisses he had ignited, he was expecting to be pushed away. When Seth pulled him closer, hands on Atemu's slender waist and deepened the kiss, Atemu started walking towards the bed.

It was all tenderness, with an underlying roughness that made Atemu shiver as they tugged on their robes, buried their hands in each other's hair and kissed. Again and again, hands starting to travel downwards. Atemu's knees hit the edge of the bed and he fell on his back, still refusing to move away. Seth kept him there as he removed his headdress, placed the Millennium Rod down and finished divesting Atemu of his remaining clothes. They were all about speed and sincerity, exchanging silent vows of being together and keeping each other alive. That frantic need to be close as close could possibly be, raced through their veins like blood on high.

Like intoxication, but better and deadlier. Like dying of thirst and drinking poison just to quench that thirst.

In the end, with Seth inside him, thrusting slow and hard, with him gasping Seth's name every time he hit that bundle of nerves inside him, Atemu knew this didn't solve anything. That even though here, right now with his priest, flushed and rushing to catch their breath—_together, _entwined in an embrace that didn't really stop destiny from happening—was the only place Atemu wanted to be, he still had to die. And this still didn't answer their problem.

A few minutes after their lovemaking, Seth, halfway through falling asleep and them catching their breath, spoke up.

"Promise me you'll wait for me to find an alternative."

"Seth…"

"Promise me, Atemu!"

"I can't promise you that," he reasoned. "I shall promise, however that nothing will happen to me _without _you there with me. Alright?"

"I love you. I swear to the gods, I'll do everything to save you," Seth whispered as sleep claimed him moments after. Atemu never got to reply.

XXX

_Part III: Goodbye is the hardest word. _


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: My mind hates me. Remember in the first chapter, when I made it quite clear that this was either a one-shot or a short multi-chaptered fic? (And by short, I meant two-three more parts?) So this was supposed to end here. Part III, with the ending and all. But alas, outlines aren't meant to be followed to the tiniest detail. Hence, I end up elaborating on some parts and forgetting the rest. Before I knew it, I already have 7 pages. Seven frickin' pages. For only one-half of things I've written in the outline. ::sighs:: I'm really sorry. This was meant to be a three-chapter thing. Obviously, it's now going to be a four-chapter one. I'd really love to know what you think, though. **

**Warning: You may, or may not want to kill me after this.

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Part III

_In which there's nothing more painful than letting someone go and never getting the assurance that he'll come back._

XXX

Dawn was yet to break when Atemu stepped out of his chambers, seeking Mahado. Discreetly, the pharaoh led himself into his priest's room, content with waiting for the other to enter and talk to him. It would do no good to be seen conversing with a High Priest in the hallway when as of yesterday, all issues had been resolved. Or so it seemed, anyway. Atemu sat on the plush high chair, almost drifting back to sleep when the doors finally opened. Last night had just been exhausting…

"A-Atemu?" Mahado gasped in shock.

It wasn't unusual for them to meet each other in the wee hours of the morning when they were younger with the palace accustomed to their early friendship. They had simply been inseparable when they were children, were closer even more than Seth and Atemu had ever been. But they grew up, like everyone else, and they took responsibilities that prohibited encounters like this.

"Good morning," Atemu greeted formally, standing up. He was dressed still in his night clothes, ruffled by the constant turning in bed as Seth slept soundly beside him. He didn't worry, though. So convinced that their conversation would not take long. Would give him time to get back and change.

"What are you doing here?" Mahado hissed, eyes darting to the doors nervously. The fact that the pharaoh was here when he was supposed to be resting beside his cousin—who people had obviously seen and accepted was Atemu's lover, as well—in the middle of the mess that the Shadow Beasts and Bakura had started, didn't bode well for Mahado. Didn't bode well for anyone, period.

"I…" The tri-haired monarch looked sheepish, until he was somber yet again. "We need to talk."

"And this couldn't wait _until _our conference later this morning?" Despite his initial panic, Mahado sounded exasperated. Like an elder brother listening to his younger sibling's confession to a prank. Mahado never had siblings, his parents having died right after he was born, so he didn't know if the comparison were true. His exasperation must have bled through his voice, though, because Atemu actually flinched.

"It's rather important," the monarch replied. _And secret._

"Very well," the priest complied as he sat on the opposite side of the bed, facing his friend. "You have a couple of minutes to convince me that what you need to say is important enough for you to sneak into my room today."

He heard Atemu sigh and when he looked up, there was already a frown on the other's face. Mock seriousness, _the_ look would have been. But the way he casually avoided Mahado's gaze and the guilt that flashed through his face when he started to speak already told Mahado what he needed to know. Mahado felt his breath get lodged in his chest. And he couldn't breathe, as if his lungs had been punctured by a broken rib. Like he was drowning and there was simply no air to take in.

"You're doing it." _Killing yourself, I mean. _It was a punch to the gut that left him slack-jawed, disbelieving.

"I have to. Surely you understand?" _Please understand. _

But Mahado shook his head, turned to look at the door once again. Reprimand was in his very body language, something Atemu was familiar with. His priest was stubborn no matter how he ended up giving in at the end (as long as Atemu convinced him, that is) but Atemu was far more stubborn. And this time, he was not to be swayed.

"There's no alternative," Atemu continued.

"We're not done looking yet," the priest countered, watching the palace guards do their morning rounds. He turned around, "You do not understand the torture you're going to put all of us through. Do you think the idea of killing you—_our pharaoh_—settles well with our souls? Karimu can buy us the time. He told me before we retired last night."

The pharaoh shook his head, "What do you intend to do with the people who are getting killed everyday? We cannot stop these… monsters from attacking them. Not all, but we cannot let them die." He reasoned, "It is a necessary sacrifice; my death."

"And what about us? What about Seth? Have you not considered those who hold you dear?"

Atemu was quiet for a moment. What was the right thing to do? What would his father have done? He met Mahado's eyes and shook his head. "I can't cower behind palace walls when they're dying."

"We're not talking about cowardice. We're talking about this kingdom's need of a pharaoh. Your father's death is fresh in their minds. Do not dare follow his fate as well. You must not die, Atemu."

The pharaoh sighed and looked down. "Seth will replace me. He's going to take care of this kingdom. I trust him," he said, voice laced with conviction. Belief. Because he trusted Seth. He really did… only not on matters that concerned saving him from his fate. Mahado, though, remained unconvinced. Hurt. And Atemu felt guilty instantly.

Mahado looked at him. Wondered how things ended this way. There were two things that Mahado couldn't deal with: the memory of watching an entire town burn to the ground and the cries of dying innocent children that filled the air and Atemu's death. It was inevitable for people die. Everyone, even pharaohs. But he'd always thought that in this life, Mahado wasn't going to be the one to bury his friend. Especially when he was meant to protect the pharaoh.

"Are you sure?" He asked instead, conceding simply because it was, no matter what and no matter who resisted, Atemu's decision at the end of the day. That he could protest all he wanted and scour the lands for the means to save Atemu and still Atemu wouldn't accept it. Consider it far too late; far too risky… and it really boiled down to his choice. He was pharaoh. Mahado's duty was to oblige. But Atemu had to be certain. Must be, because Mahado wasn't going to let him make a mistake. Let him die for no reason at all.

Atemu nodded, walking towards him. They could hear the quiet conversations between the slaves that passed the room and he saw Mahado stiffen. He wasn't supposed to be here. Atemu met the priest's eyes and pulled him in for a hug. Platonic. Grateful. Like old times. The thought made Mahado flinch as he looked away.

"He doesn't know, does he?" Mahado asked further. Atemu shook his head. Honest. Couldn't lie, especially not with this. He wouldn't insult Mahado or Mahado's trust. Mahado sighed and ran his hand through his hair wearily. If Mahado was already reacting like this, Seth's reaction was definitely going to be worse. Unyielding and betrayed. Did Atemu know what he was causing? "Atemu, you need to tell him," he advised. As a friend. As someone who's old enough to know that matters like this weren't meant to be kept a secret to those who would directly be affected.

"I shall," the pharaoh promised. Not now, though. "Tell Karimu and the others to begin the preparations."

"Atemu…" _Tell him._

"Mahado, please?"

The priest didn't know why he complied when he knew he shouldn't have. As he ruffled Atemu's hair affectionately and was graced with Atemu's smile, he figured he was selfish. Because the thing was, this—Atemu's full, cherry red lips quirking in a small smile, carefree and grateful, trusting like he had always done for Mahado—if this was what Mahado's going to get, then maybe he did want to be selfish.

Even for a bit.

Maybe he _was_, period. Selfish, point blank.

He was man, was he not?

"Alright, my pharaoh," Mahado answered before opening the door. "Go back to him," he said, "He will be looking for you."

The pharaoh nodded and kissed him on the cheek and Mahado thought back to a 8-year old Crown Prince doing the same thing after Mahado agreed to sneak out into the plaza with him.

"Thank you, Mahado," his pharaoh and the 8-year old prince in his head chorused. Mahado hung his head and rested his forehead on the door, eyes shut tight to keep the memories from coming back.

XXX

Preoccupied with his impending doom that Atemu was, he couldn't help but notice that Mahado was hiding from him. Avoiding. These days, Mahado was either sparring with some captains he knew, or spending time with the scribes, pouring over papyrus rolls. Atemu wasn't foolish to think these were researches being made for the Sealing Ceremony. He knew better than that. Mahado, though agreeing to help him, was still looking for the same thing Seth had gone to another town for.

But it was the small things that gave Mahado away. Those wistful looks that Atemu caught directed at him and his never-ending line of excuses whenever Atemu wanted to talk to him. Mahado was good at hiding things, but he never considered the fact that he grew up with the pharaoh. Atemu _knew_. And noticed his not-so-subtle-after-all avoidance. Although no one questioned why the normally close duo weren't talking to each other, the pharaoh wasn't naïve to think that his High Priests didn't notice. They were good that way. In observing and finding out what was wrong.

Atemu was by no means a fool and he knew something was up. Mahado wasn't sleeping. That, evident in the exhausted slump of his shoulders that he very well tried to conceal. He wasn't taking a break from the 'save-Atemu' thinking of his and Atemu couldn't help but worry.

From yet another conference and two weeks before the Ceremony, the pharaoh watched solemnly as Mahado and Ishizu talked quietly. Apart from him, the priest had always been close to the only priestess and as far as Atemu could remember, Ishizu had always been protective of him. Like the mother his friend never experienced having. Like an older sister who wanted nothing else but to shield her brother from the monsters of the world. Suddenly Ishizu pulled Mahado into an embrace, face grief-stricken and a sense of foreboding washed over the monarch. They must have noticed him staring, though, for Ishizu pulled back. Mahado followed her gaze and the way he froze like a bandit caught red-handed, didn't go unnoticed.

"Mahado…"

By now, Ishizu had left them alone. Knowing when to leave. When she wasn't needed. Mahado was trying hard not to turn around and walk away. Hide again, as Atemu slowly approached him.

"Yes, sire?" It was formal. Over the top. _Stop it, Mahado._

"What's going on?" This was how Atemu differed from Mahado. He asked immediately. Sometimes it was a curse, especially when he engaged people into arguments without really meaning to. Sometimes—_often _times it was a blessing. Short-lived a blessing it might be; but a blessing nevertheless. Mahado shook his head, smiling sadly. Truthfully revealing that _yes, there's something going on and I don't like it at all _but insisting to keep it to himself because _it's my problem_. He was quiet. Accommodating the pharaoh's inquiries, only with frustrating limitations.

Atemu wanted to demand what was troubling his friend. He saw the need to respect Mahado's space, though, so he sighed. An idea clicked.

"Is this about the ceremony?" He whispered, to which Mahado only shook his head. Atemu nodded. Fine. "I'll… you know you can always talk to me, right?" He tried again and when the priest looked away, Atemu decided it was time to leave. He squeezed Mahado's shoulder comfortingly and left him alone.

The night was cool and quiet. Atemu stood at the balcony of his chamber, upper half of his body leaning on the railing as he exhaled, puff of cold air slipping from his mouth. He wasn't adorned with his usual jewels, having changed into a simple white tunic and kilt after all. News of Seth and his party's arrival hadn't come in yet and Atemu's mind nagged with concern. Bakura and his thieves were reportedly seen near the town his cousin was at. Was Seth alright? For all they knew, the entire party—no matter how skilled they were—was overrun and killed. Atemu shivered, refusing to think about it. Seth was alright. He had to be.

Sighing, the pharaoh gazed at the distance. He savored the night air. _Loved_ the cold, feathery touches on his tanned skin. Reminded him of Seto's lips on feverish skin as they made love every night, calling each other's names like they were praising the gods. Atemu remembered traveling due west, where the desert was vast and no trace of vegetation could be found. He had snuck out, a Crown Prince still and burdened only by his father's expectations. It was an easy life and he had gotten bored. Atemu remembered happening upon an oasis that nobody thought existed, and Seth finding him two days later, angry, worried and half-scared that something bad had befallen him.

Atemu remembered Seth's worry turning into frustration then realization; remembered being pushed to a palm tree and divested of his clothes as Seth trailed kisses from his jaw to his crotch then back up. He had arched up and claimed Seth's lips with his own, thinking finally he was able to taste Seth. The memory of Seth taking him there, in a sanctuary they made their own, beneath the shade of the palm tree and under them, a whole floor of sand, was never going to leave his mind ever. After that, they went there whenever they could. Away from prying, judging eyes.

Those were wonderful times…

"My pharaoh."

Atemu turned. Mahado was staring at him, eyes blazing with a determination that only arose when he was sparring with Seth, ignoring the older priest's taunts and showing Atemu he could be as good as the azure-eyed brunet. There were traces of resignation in the priest's body language, though, betraying what he felt. But—resigned to what? If Atemu was surprised by Mahado's sudden presence in his private quarters, Atemu concealed it well. Mahado had never been to his room the moment he was crowned pharaoh, and he had to admit, the reason behind his presence now bugged him.

"Yes, Mahado?"

Mahado walked towards him, calculated steps echoing in the silence. Were they going to talk about what was bothering the priest? Mahado took a deep breath, ignoring his gaze and looked away. This was his only chance, Mahado knew.

"I shall be training with my magician starting tomorrow." It wasn't exactly a lie. He didn't bother telling the pharaoh who he had in mind to train with. Diabound must have a weakness. Shadow creatures had at least one.

"Oh." Atemu met his eyes. This wasn't exactly what he had in mind. "You'll be careful?" Last time Mahado trained, he ended up nearly dying due to fatigue.

Mahado's smile was small, reminiscing. He brushed Atemu's bangs away, relieved when the other man didn't notice how his hand trembled. He wasn't coming back. At their close proximity, the pharaoh's eyes widened curiously. He stared into Mahado's brown eyes and the despair that lingered there made him reach for his friend. "No," the priest abruptly said, gripping Atemu's hand and stilling it. At the unvoiced question, he shook his head and leaned in.

Atemu pulled back, reading Mahado's intentions but Mahado's grip was firm. Unrelenting.

"Please," Mahado requested, whispered. "Give me this one kiss?"

At the pharaoh's silence, Mahado leaned back in, putting his lips on Atemu's as if he belonged there. As if this was fated to happen. This brief lip-lock as he let go of his friend's hand and placed his own on Atemu's slender waist. He tipped Atemu's chin up and deepened the kiss, tongue sliding into Atemu's parted mouth and instantly, Mahado closed his eyes. This was goodbye, he tried to say. This was thank you, for everything, for their friendship, for _this… _

The idea about kisses were, it told a person a lot of things. In this case, Atemu couldn't help but be saddened by the emotions Mahado was accidentally fueling the kiss with. His arms remained fixed and stubborn at his side but he closed his eyes. Allowed Mahado this. Just this once.

No words were exchanged. Mahado shied eventually from Atemu's submission. Ra, he didn't want to. Didn't want to go. Didn't want to—

"Atemu—"

Atemu's eyes widened in shock as his hands reflexively pushed Mahado away. For the second time that night, he turned around and met Seto's betrayed face.

"S-Seth!" Damage control wasn't an easy task to accomplish. Atemu approached him, "This isn't what you think it is." _Believe me. This isn't real. _

Seth sneered, eying Mahado before facing the monarch. His side hurt, the blade wound stinging through his bandage. His chest ached more. Unbearably. He figured Atemu wouldn't notice though. At this rate, in Mahado's arms, Seth doubted Atemu was going to notice _anything _at all. "Whatever you say, sire," he stiffly answered.

The grip Atemu had on his arm was like salt on opened wound. He winced and glared at Atemu, hurting at the remorse and panic Atemu's face brimmed with. Seth shook his hand away and gritted out, words hardened and cold "Don't go near me ever again."

The door slammed with a bang. For some reason, Atemu wanted to drop dead, ceremony or no.

"Atemu—"

The pharaoh shook his head, finding it difficult to breathe. Everything was too loud. Too screechy. Like fragile, valuable vases shattering and the shards, cutting through skin. Too much. Too _much_. Seth was gone. "Leave me be, Mahado," he whispered because he couldn't handle this now. Not now. It happened so fast. Too swift for him to notice. To realize what he was doing. What he _could _be doing in Seth's eyes.

The hurt and betrayal caused Seth. Seth, who risked his life to save him. Who didn't want to let him go. Oh Ra.

"Atemu, I'm sorry."

Atemu turned to him, eyes blank and face, impassive. "You're forgiven. Please, Mahado, leave." He wanted to be furious and blame the other priest. Think that it was all Mahado's fault and that he really didn't kiss back. But in the hierarchy of needs and wants, the desire to drown and curl himself somewhere to die was stronger. How did things ended up in one huge nightmare?

"Atemu, I didn't—"

"Mahado, if you know what's good for you and for this friendship, you will leave me alone."

"It was a misunderstanding," Mahado gripped him tight, making him see reason. Atemu wouldn't have any. Reason should have come to him when he decided he should let Mahado kiss him.

"As it is, you've done enough." The accusation was blatant and at the same time, unmeant. But Mahado heard it bright and clear. He pulled his hands back as if burned and he bowed his head, ashamed. Atemu sighed. He shouldn't be doing this. He grasped Mahado's chin and forced him to meet his gaze. "You're the closest friend I have, Mahado. I can never hate you, but right now…" he sighed, "your help is the least thing I need. Please, just let me be."

The priest nodded and took a step back, bowing.

"Farewell, my pharaoh."

At Mahado's departure, Atemu felt his knees buckle, allowing himself to collapse. No one was going to judge him now, hidden in his quarters. Free to be human. Weak. Corrupted. Seth's and Mahado's goodbyes both sounded final.

XXX

Two days later, a sleepless, weary Atemu was asked to come to the main hall immediately. The sight that greeted him drained the remaining color on his face. Seth didn't look at him, but all other eyes were on him. He gaped wordlessly at the stone slab, Mahado's exact stone replica sculptured on it. His hands were shaking so bad as he followed the outline of his friend's figure. This was goodbye. This was what Mahado's kiss meant.

"… Diabound… Bakura… hidden temple…"

This was _goodbye. _

_You didn't even realize._

"_You're the closest friend I have, Mahado."_

You didn't even realize.

"Oh Ra."

Pharaohs were the symbol of strength and wisdom. Of ability and power. Atemu closed his eyes, sank to his knees and combined with losing Seth, he couldn't handle it anymore. He broke down and wept.

XXX

_Part IV: Remember that quote people use about hitting rock-bottom and having nothing to go but up? They're wrong. _


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Aha, an update. Amazing. Okay, so I should be studying for my preliminary exams tomorrow. Eh, this morning. But this chapter's been tempting me since Sunday and I simply could not resist anymore. One chapter left. [This was meant to be the last chapter, however, I felt it was too long so now we have chapter 5!] Tell me what you think, 'kay? I'm thinking I made some mistakes while writing this. But oh well.**

* * *

Part IV

_In which Love isn't about hugs and kisses alone, but also about heartbreak and misunderstandings. _

The kingdom was in mourning, a somber, stifling cloud of gloom hanging over its people. They watched each other warily even though their sympathy toward each other was still recognizable. To have lost a High Priest these days and not find his body were omens of impending doom, and they feared for their lives. The pharaoh greeted them everyday, giving hollow reassurances when everyone could see how the monarch was barely gathering his own sanity. Atemu's complexion was unnaturally pale and he looked frail. Like he had been bound and dragged forcible by a chariot of wild, unstoppable horses.[1] His exhaustion was loud and clear in his monotonous voice and everyday, Atemu looked worse than before.

While the council proceeded with their usual affairs, Atemu remained quiet and overseeing. Shadi's and Karimu's voices blended into incoherent yaps and he fought the urge to hush them both. Since Mahado's unexpected death, nothing had been the same. Ishizu had regressed into herself, mind encased in regret and grief as she thought back to waking one day to predict Mahado's death. Shadi and Karimu, although livelier than everyone else, had toned down, arguing in conferences like this instead of exchanging verbal jabs and playful banter. It was their way of coping—to settle issues as soon as possible; however, with the rate they were going, it seemed like both priests were never finishing anything today. There was only one remaining priest that Atemu had strayed from thinking about. And yet, in an attempt to concentrate on the topic at hand, Atemu made the mistake of looking at Seth and the unoccupied seat beside the priest.

_Mahado used to sit there._

His cousin was alluring as ever. A dangerous, passionate aura still reverberated while everyone else's dimmed at Mahado's demise. And he couldn't resist but let himself feel the pull. To feel the tug as if Seth was the center of gravity.[2] Seth turned to him, all frosty glares and masked eyes and Atemu couldn't help but shudder under his gaze. Atemu looked away and closed his eyes, sighing heavily. He was just too…tired. His weariness brought about a wave of dizziness and without thinking, he slightly slumped forward, hands on the armrests of his throne. Seth's words were blunt and sharp at the same time, slicing through even after days had passed. Atemu couldn't take it: Seth's hatred. Seth's disgust.

"_Don't ever come near me again." _

The pharaoh couldn't breathe, chest heaving with the limited air that it had managed to inhale. He shook his head, unaware that he had begun catching the attention of his priests. There was just too much pressure on his chest.

"My lord, are you well?" Ishizu interrupted, putting the debate to a stop as everyone stared at an obviously distressed Atemu. Atemu nodded stoically even though his breath was shaky.

"Continue."

Seth raised an eyebrow, suspicion and skepticism evident in his eyes, but he remained silent. If Atemu wanted to play this game, then_ fine_.

"In light of High Priest Mahado's death, I believe appointing someone to replace him is in order," Karimu suggested, voice having fallen into a whisper. Like he didn't really want to mention it. The pharaoh knew where this was headed. He knew why Karimu raised the issue but no one could take Mahado's place. It was too late for the Ceremony.

"Mana was his star pupil," Shadi added, siding with Karimo for the first time in days. They looked at the monarch, questions of _Is this alright, sire? _and _Are we really going to do this, Atemu?_ on their faces. As much as they were bound by duty, they were still Atemu's friends foremost, and… really, what kind of friend would they be if they let themselves kill him?

But the questions weren't answered, Atemu's nod giving them the sign that he was ignoring their concerns. It was too late. Even if—_assuming _that he lived, what else could he do if he'd already lost the person he was doing this for?

The conversation continued with Mana's credentials. Atemu couldn't help but to chuckle bitterly to himself, remembering Mahado's half-fond, half-exasperated comments about the girl they were talking about. Mahado had had high hopes for her, true, but he would always try to shield the girl from the brutal realities of a High Priestess' duties. _You don't even know what your teachings have given her_.

Mahado's words were all that echoed in Atemu's head now, and he missed his friend intensely. It wasn't Mahado's fault that he and Seth were no longer together. There were things that even a High Priest couldn't control. It was Atemu's fault. For letting it happen. For not seeing the signs. And he let Mahado die. _You always let people die_.

"Sire, are we boring you?" Seth's voice broke through the defensive, self-loathing haze that had enshrouded the pharaoh.

Those were the first words Seth had said to him, and he looked up in a start, meeting Seth's eyes. Gods, they were the deepest, mysterious set of blue eyes Atemu had ever seen and he felt his breath being taken away. Seth had taken his headdress off, once again breaking protocol that Atemu didn't feel the need to chide him for. His rich brown locks were disheveled, carelessly framing Seth's handsome, angular face. And it was to this sight that Atemu turned away, chest hurting with longing and regret.

"No, please continue," he rasped.

Atemu sighed and looked away, avoiding Seth's gaze as much as possible. As much as he missed Mahado, it was nothing compared to the emptiness that he felt as he watched his cousin from afar. The impact of watching Seth pretend that he didn't exist was almost physical. And Atemu guessed that it really wasn't Seth's avoidance that bothered him. Not really.

It was the fact that somehow Atemu wanted things to be this way for Seth's own good. It was the safest way to ensure that Seth would do the rational thing at the end of the day. That by creating this schism, he was teaching Seth to be away from him and to think for himself. Be free of the burden of looking after him; of the pain that Atemu was definitely going to cause him.

_This is so unfair._

Wasn't it? That he was going to die and Seth would continue to despise him, see him as the person who broke his heart and torn his trust in two. That he would never see Atemu's death as a sacrifice so they would a future. Together. That it was all for Seth…

"Sire, you cannot continue doing this," Ishizu reprimanded as soon as the meeting ended.

"Do what?" Atemu feigned ignorance.

Ishizu looked at him, her disapproval clear on her face and for once, Atemu didn't mind it. Didn't care because honestly, would it even matter at the end of the day?

"I appreciate your concern, Ishizu," Atemu said anyway. Thought that she at least deserved to have her efforts recognized but she refused to back down. "I _do_." _I just don't really care what happens anymore. _

Ishizu seemed to pick the thought up. "But?"

"But…" The pharaoh sighed. "I'm going to _die_, Ishizu. Do you think I want him to know that? To leave him and know for a fact that I'd just hurt him even more?"

"It's better than dying and letting him hate you forever for it." _Come on, Atemu_.

"I can accept that."

"With all due respect, then you are a fool, sire."

_Maybe._

Her words were harsh but her intentions were clear, and Atemu couldn't fault her for that. But that didn't mean anything because his mind was made up and he was going to push through with this, whether Seth knew the truth or not.

"I'm sorry you think that way. I'm not going to change my mind. You know that. Good day, Ishizu."

He walked away, sighing heavily to himself and didn't notice the tall figure watching them, having apparently eavesdropped, step back and stiffly head to the other direction.

XXX

After coincidentally eavesdropping (although overhearing would be the more politically-correct term) on Ishizu and Atemu, Seth started to notice the subtle changes in everyone's routines. Normally the servants would be seen resting during the free time they had between breakfast and lunch, in the gardens gossiping with the guards. Lately, they were often missing—busy with 'kitchen preparations' and assisting the other priests and scribes. For a palace facing a possible siege, the palace was swamped with non-military tasks. Weird. Speaking of weird, his fellow High Priests had also become busier with teaching and temple service. Every morning Seth would watch Karimu leave the temple of Horus, only to be replaced by Shadi and Ishizu.

Ishizu.

Ever since her conversation with the Pharaoh, Ishizu had been unfailingly morose and irritable. The normally sweet-natured priestess was rumored to have acerbically reprimanded a young servant to the point of tears. Initially, Seth blamed the grief. Ishizu felt particularly close to Mahado and might really be hurting due to unrequited, unannounced feelings. When as Seth rounded on a corner and saw Karimu and Atem—the _Pharaoh_, he cursed and went the other way.

How sad really, this situation with his estranged cousin. They never avoided each other in the past, no matter how furious they were. Then again, considering what happened, wasn't it safe to say that this time around, the circumstances were very different? Still, it was sad. How many days had it been since catching Mahado and Atemu in each other's arms? How many nights since then did he spend writhing in his unfamiliar bed, dreaming of the Pharaoh in ways he shouldn't, and remembering deftly that once upon a time, Atemu in his arms felt the best thing ever? How many times did he wonder how what happened, happened? Countless, it seemed, and Seth's body showed the signs of its burden—bone-wearied, almost-sagging shoulders, circles under hooded eyes and lips curled in a perpetual frown. This… disaster had to stop.

"_Father, it's been two years. When is my mother coming back?" At 12 years old, Seth was still trying to master his would-be trademark piercing stare. Until then, it could be as intimidating as an owl would gaze—straight but unstaring, all the more suspicious. Akunadin, powerful as he was, was not the least intimidated. He , after all, raised his son well and soon the throne would rightfully be his. _

"_She's never coming back, my son."_

"_Why not?" Coming from anyone else, it would have come out as a childish whine. One that refused to believe the truth, that insisted to have his way regardless of consequences and justifications. From Seth, it was objective. Matter-of-factly in the sense that it begged no sugar-coating; just the plain truth. It didn't take long for him to figure it out. Seth, in spite of all, gasped and stared at his father, whose unmoved gaze was fixed at him, in utmost horror. _

"_You had her killed," Seth whispered, eyes wide and watering. He ran towards his father, enraged and feeling bold enough to glare at the man and maybe hurt him a little with his feeble attempts to punch the elderly priest. "She was my mother!"_

"_And she was my wife."_

"_Then why…? Why kill her?" _

_Akunadin chuckled to himself, pained and wretched. He cautiously pulled and buried his smart boy in his embrace. Seth patiently waited for a response. Upon hearing none, he dared look up and saw the melancholy in his sire's face. Was it because of him or because he killed his wife? _

"_Father?" _

"_I loved your mother very much," Akunadin whispered, refusing to voice it out louder. "I tried to give her everything. I would have given her anything had she only asked. Even my life. No, she _was _my life. But love is a fickle thing, my boy, and it preys on imbeciles. She was clever, and she loved me then loved another when I turn my back._

_How could I let her live when so thoughtlessly she discarded mine?"_

_Seth looked away, digesting the information and refusing to believe it. His mother! The one who sang him lullabies when still a child. The one who gave constant encouragements and praises. Whose hugs calmed him; whose kisses chased away the pain on fresh wound. Would she really…? Seth shook his head in denial. She wouldn't. Akunadin watched him. His father looked so sad. Grieved._

_Would she really?_

"_Love deceives, dear Seth. Best you know this now than suffer from an adulterous lover," his sire advised. As Akunadin left, Seth turned to the setting sun. The last rays of light slowly dimmed and as they did, everything about his mother started to be clouded with doubt. From then on, he would never speak of her again. From then on, he would deal with cheaters gravely. _

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Seth shoved the papyrus scroll away. It was no use. He kept getting distracted, and as the days tolled on, the amount of paperwork that needed reviewing piled up. He sighed. Until now he has yet to receive validation of his mother's lover, and therefore could not acertain if his father was telling the truth. Yet the look on Akunadin's face that day was real. Genuine. His words were serious and commanded remembrance.

"Stop it," Seth berated himself. Just as quickly, there was a knock on his door. This was his private bedchamber! Didn't anyone know better than to disturb him? Yanking the door open, he was ready to give the unfortunate soul who knocked an earful when he stopped abruptly and stared instead. Wide, insecure, sky blue eyes held his gaze and the owner blushed. Seth ran a hand through his hair and opened the door more. Wasn't she supposed to be off somewhere? At the lengthening silence, Kisara took this as cue to present her token.

"High Priest Seth," she greeted, bowing respectfully before offering a small wrapped bag. "I haven't properly thanked you. I am truly indebted to you, my lord."

"It's nothing, Kisara," Seth dismissed, hesitating on taking the gift. Even without opening it, he knew it was a carving of some statue. However, upon opening it (finally), came the bigger surprise. The figure was a dragon—fierce-looking, proud and powerful—and it seemed to be lifting something—a tall robed figure—into their as it poised for flight. Seth gasped, remembering the statuette's significance.

"Where did you get this?" He questioned.

"A-at the marketplace. A-are you displeased, my lord? Forgive me. I didn't mean it."

Seth shook his head. How could he explain that this was—he simply didn't like what the statuette reminded him of.

"Thank you, Kisara," he eyed the object in his hand. Not much has changed. Still the same mistakes, rough surfaces, blemishes…

"The vendor, she said it was given to her by the maker. He was from the palace, the maker, I mean. But she neede the money and so, the decision to part with this," the girl explained. Seth simply nodded. He remembered this. he remembered complaining about the wounds afterwards, only to smile besotted as Atemu cleaned them tenderly. He had gotten a kiss for his efforts…

Atemu gave it away?

You promised me. Where are we now?

"_I'd like to see you do it next time," Seth sulks as Atemu studies the sculpture. He gazes at his bandaged hand before glancing at the other man. "It's not much but I hope you like it."_

_Atemu blushes and then nods, eyes dancing in unabashed happiness. Seth smiles to that unconsciously before leaning in and leaving a kiss on Atemu's forehead. The Pharaoh glanced at his priest before kissing him back, choosing to show his thanks rather than say it. _

"_I love it." _

"Of course you do," he spat.

"Sire?"

"I wish to be alone."

The girl nodded but in her haste, she tripped and fell to the floor. Immediately Seth was on her side, guiding her back to the armchair nearby. As he did so, Kisara grasped his front robe tightly, rattled as she was, and puller herself close. It reminded her of the time the High Priest graciously saved her in the past. Oh how badly she had fallen for him then…

"Kisara?"

"Yes, my lord?"

"You can let go now."

Kisara didn't. Bold nimble hands held Seth's face tenderly and bade him to meet her gaze. Without preamble and with Seth's face just a few inches from hers, Kisara closed the distance and placed her lips on his. Seth's eyes widened and reflexively started to pull away, catching her attention. Kisara withdrew and sighed sadly.

"Even for just this night…" she whispered brokenly, "even for this night, I wish you were mine. You have no idea, my lord, just how much I'm in love with you… and I envy him greatly—him, whom you love."

"Kisara—" It took Seth a few moments to gather his thoughts and utter a response. However, by then, Kisara had already moved away, embarrassed by her previous actions. Just this night, she said. Wasn't this better than spending the night alone and wallowing in the resentment and pain that terrorized him lately?

"Excuse me, my lord," Kisara insisted, making a move for a quick exit, which Seth quickly countered as he grabbed for her arm.

"Stay." Seth leaned in and claimed her lips, forgetting about the statuette. If Atemu had forgotten about his promise to keep it, why should Seth make a big issue out of it?

Kisara wrapped her arms around the priest, surrendering to his kisses. It was everything that she ever dreamed of. Since he had saved her back then, she had loved him. And this… this was her chance. This time, no matter how brief, High Priest was hers.

Neither of the two heard the knock on the door, or the sound of the door opening. It was when the pharaoh gasped, eyes wide and far too bright with an indescribable emotion that Seth turned. He paled and couldn't help but echo the pain that he glared at him from Atemu's too-honest eyes. This couldn't be happening.

"Seth…" Atemu whispered in disbelief. He glanced at them fleetingly and for once couldn't explain why his body felt cold all over. He shouldn't have reconsidered going here. Then again, really, why didn't he expect this to happen? Sooner or later his cousin would find someone to replace him. _And he wasn't in a hurry, it seems_, he quipped sarcastically. Bitterly chuckling to himself, he met Seth's gaze and shook his head, "Forgive me for disturbing. I'll just go."

With surprisingly concealed trembling hands, he reached for the door and closed it just as he left and ran.

Seth was normally a quick mover. Agility was a skill that was taught to them early on, as well as speed. Unfortunately, he somehow couldn't make himself move. Rooted as he was, there was a need to reach out to his pharaoh. To run after him and bridge this gap that came out recently. This was all his fault. Stepping back, he stared at Kisara apologetically before leaving.

As he ran towards the Pharaoh's private chamber, his mind raced. It was stubborn, he realized. His chest constricted painfully at the thought of Atemu's pain, and knowing that he caused it was worse. But Atemu wasn't faultless in this, was he, he still countered.

"The pharaoh, I need to see him right now," he demanded as he reached the doors. The guards looked at him warily before turning to themselves, indecisive. Annoyed, he glared at them. "Didn't you hear me? Open the doors."

"He has ordered us not to let anyone in, sire," the guard to his right replied and in a quieter voice added, "Especially if it was you."

"Damn it, Atemu," he cursed under his breath.

A hand grabbed him from behind and yanked him away. It was Ishizu… and she was livid. Murderous. Just as Seth opened his mouth to talk, the priestess slapped him hard.

"I could _kill _you, High Priest Seth."

When he didn't voice a response, Ishizu continued, "You send him away for your pre-conceived, unproven notions about him and Mahado, and yet you dally with that woman? You would dare treat him that way? Do you have any idea just what in Ra's name you have done?" If Ishizu had decided to slap him again, Seth was certain it would be a lesser pain compared to the viciousness of her words. "You promised us—you promised _me _you were never going to hurt him. By your life, you swore. Have you forgotten?"

"Ishizu, I'm—"

"If you apologize, you keep it to yourself. You don't deserve him."

Her comment rattled the guilt-ridden priest and before he could control what he was saying, he muttered, "No one's ever going to deserve the Pharaoh."

"Had you given him a chance to explain himself—had you even _believed _in him, you would have been the only one who deserves him. But it's too late now, is it? The ceremony's in two days, after all," Ishizu mercilessly spat.

Ceremony?

"What?" He asked dejectedly.

"The Sealing Ceremony takes place then, and you know what that means. I would suggest you do whatever you intend to do immediately." Ishizu shook her head and walked away, wondering why since Mahado died, everything was beginning to crumble.

Seth couldn't utter a word, his gaze unseeing. He felt numb. Floored.

_"Hush," he said, claiming Atemu's lips for a kiss. It was slow and gentle, contrary to their fevered kisses. This was bittersweet, long as if this were the only way that Seth could send his message. When they parted, they were both panting, cheeks flushed and eyes already glittering. Seth opened Atemu's clenched fist, putting his palm back on his heart. "This—"_

_Transferred to his own heart, beating on a calmer pace._

_"—and this, is life, Atemu. What keeps us living, what we live for," Seth continued. "This. The rhythm of our hearts beating together. This is what we cherish. What I cherish the most. I understand that you need to protect Egypt. I do."_

No…

As if in a trance, High Priest approached the guards.

"Is he never going to allow me to see him?" He asked.

The guards shuffled at their feet, refusing to answer. It was bad enough to witness this. It was worse to actually make things more complicated.

"He did not leave word, my lord," one of them finally answered sorrowfully.

"I see."

Seth went to the garden, certain he was not going to get any sleep. He sighed and closed his eyes.

_What have I done? _


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So, I changed my mind again. I figured after re-writing this for so many months—I know, suckiest chapter-writing ever—that it's not quite right to push Atemu and Seth into a disagreement then reconcile them hastily. Therefore, here's one more chapter before the last chapter and the epilogue. I hope everyone's okay with that. Again, I'd like to hear from you. Do review. I think I write faster when there's feedback.

* * *

**

_Part V_

_In which you love not to destroy all that makes him good, but to encourage and make him a better man. _

This was how they met after so many years: with masked curiosity and interest, glaring at each other out of habit and exchanging verbal spats about trivial things. Seth had only just returned after spending several years abroad, having sought further education about foreign cultures and knowledge, and had only been called home to finally become a High Priest like his father. The Crown Prince, on the other hand, was on his way to meet Mahado when he bumped into his previously absent cousin. Their surprise was palpable, and their manner of reunion unorthodox and unplanned. There were no alarms, no way to foretell the way Seth somehow could not take his eyes off the unexpectedly attractive prince; and there were no warnings that Atemu could have heeded to avoid the abrupt warmth and cold, delight and suspicion, and relief and longing that warred within him.

In Seth's eyes, Atemu had filled out in a lot of ways—from his frail frame in their childhood and his crimson-red eyes that now shone with maturity and knowledge that changed the way he stood and presented himself. In all physical aspects, his cousin had changed; his tongue sharper, his actions bolder and his posture, cockier. It was difficult to reconcile this Atemu with the one he often argued with in the past.

The first time they acknowledged each other's feelings was in the aftermath of an ambush. Seth lay on his bed, wounded and pale, movements sluggish and drastically weakened by severe blood loss. An arrow was protruded in his abdomen, and the healers worked continuously to save him. Most of the time, he had been inebriated by his pain. This was the consequence of pushing himself in front of his distracted cousin. They were left alone afterwards, with Atemu barely hiding the way he trembled with unnatural anxiety and Seth too hurt to start arguments. Then, there was only the fact that Atemu was safe and in the tent with him that compelled him to pull the other man closer, claiming his lips in a feverish kiss that was fueled by the fear, longing and relief the thought of losing Atemu wrought from him.

And they had been happy after that. Satisfied; for what else could be more valuable than having the love you bore for a person returned?

In the public library, High Priest Seth gave up on the scroll he was reading. The scrawls, almost unreadable due to his lack of interest and focus, mocked his efficiency, as he simply rubbed his eyes tiredly. Two days before the Sealing Ceremony and he had yet to find Atemu. He probably would have found the elusive Pharaoh had the issue about the possibility of a dark entity being summoned _not _been brought up. But the thing was, although his duty ought to trump his personal plans and dilemmas, there was no use in reading something he wouldn't even care to understand.

How could he forget Atemu's pain-filled eyes and unmistaken distraught? Or the flash of betrayal on Atemu's face at the sight of Kisara in his arms? When everything else should be prioritized, why was Atemu and the undying, fiery need to find him and make things between them right feel all the more important?

"Really, High Priest Seth, what has the scroll ever done to you to be treated as such?"

Seth looked up, startled to see Shadi watching him. After yesterday, he hadn't really talked to any of the priests, irritated initially then guilt-stricken afterwards. The scroll he held had not been wrinkled, or crumpled, but thus far there were tiny blotches of ink on it that despite his inner turmoil made Seth feel guilty.

"I'm sorry."

"Believe it or not, we make mistakes and sometimes those we love most suffer from it," Shadi said as he deftly took the scroll away. Clearly Shadi was not talking about the scroll. Seth met his gaze, and he smiled reassuringly. "It doesn't mean you're too late. You have two days. Make it worthwhile, and you will never regret it."

In a sense, maybe at this point all Seth really needed was for someone to trust him to do the right thing. It was like gaining the right amount of _ka _to summon his monster to save someone, and in a lot of ways, it was enlightening. Encouraging. To the point that when Shadi nodded to him and assumed his responsibilities, the brunet quickly made his way back to the palace. The least that he could do was to correct the mistakes he had made, especially those that had hurt Atemu.

Alas, midday came and the Pharaoh was nowhere to be seen.

Bewildered, Seth exhaled wearily and leaned on the wall. Frustration was not something he dealt with easily. Nor was this… sense of panic that made him uncomfortable in his own skin. Uneasy. Where was Atemu?

"He rode off."

Ishizu.

"Off where?"

"I don't know."

Had this been a time when stubborn as he was refused to consider the alternatives that were proposed by the others, he would have complained about the insignificance of the response. But as it was, now with Ishizu crossing her arms and gaze narrowed and directed at him, Seth realized he was in no position to expect anything—or in this case, demand for more.

"My thanks, Ishizu," he answered as he started to walk towards the direction of the stables.

With the limited time he had, he couldn't afford to go to every possible place in the kingdom, could he?

"Seth?" The priestess called, a change in the tone of her voice evident. It sounded softer, more compassionate.

"Yes?"

"When you find him, would you consider giving him this?" She came up with a pouch and handed it to him. "It was Mahado's… he had asked that this be given to the Pharaoh. He felt he owed so much to him… but it's your decision. Whatever you decide to do, I intend to respect it."

The brunet simply nodded and promptly left, Mahado's parting gift in his hand. He didn't want to think about it yet. He still had to find Atemu, after all; and he only had one chance, truthfully. He hoped he guessed right.

XXX

As far as Atemu could remember, he had been fascinated by Seth's eyes. In anger, they shone in the fiercest shade of sapphire; cold and piercing, it would make him shiver. He loved them more when they gazed at him in the throes of passion, or in the comfortable unhurried peace afterwards for that was when Seth's eyes were open and expressive—when the priest dropped his mask and capture his attention in his honesty. What he couldn't handle wasn't the fact that Seth might have found someone else already. No, it was not that. Not completely, anyway.

It was the fact that he knew someone else would eventually discover who Seth really could be. Would find how incredible his cousin actually was, when it was only Atemu who knew those things.

"_I doom myself." _

"_How so?" Mahado asked curiously._

_Atemu sighed, eyes falling on the figure sparring with a soldier at the courtyard below. Seth's hair had grown longer and he had tied it so it would not be a distraction. But everything else was the same. The way he parried and calculated his opponent's moves, dodging and blocking with preciseness and admirable speed and strength, his cousin made sparring look like a dance! Every trickle of sweat and bend of his body hinted the effort Seth exerted to be calm. That gleam in his eyes that Atemu was so familiar with; the one that belied his triumph. _

"_I thought the years have taught me to get over this silly infatuation with him. Apparently I've mistaken," he told his friend. "I see him now, find how much he's learned and witnessed—how much he's grown and I am still affected by his actions as if he never left. This is ridiculous."_

"_Don't worry. It probably wouldn't be that bad."_

"_How would we know?"_

"_We don't, but we can hope that it won't. Besides you have us. We'll never let anyone hurt you," Mahado reassured with a pat on the back. For the briefest moment, the priest looked away, lost in his thoughts and smiling wistfully. _

_Of course Atemu noticed, and he couldn't help but think how fortunate the person, whom Mahado would love, would be. _

This used to be sanctuary: an oasis in the desert with palm trees that protected the place from the merciless heat, and cool blue water that the light could not reach due to the shade. Around it was the arid desert, a vast expanse of sand that was about two hours from the palace. Due east, he knew, was the kingdom; farther than that was the Nile. When he was a child, he loved the river. Still did, but he remembered spending all his free time there nevertheless. Most memories with dear friends were spent there. In here, though, he wasn't a Crown Prince—or a Pharaoh. Here he was merely a human being, a weary traveler who stopped to rest and perhaps drown in his loneliness. He wasn't the ruler of a kingdom, who was responsible for other people. Here, he could forget that he was going to die, and that maybe he doubted if his cousin really loved him.

This was the safest place to be.

Yet even in the oasis, Seth's absence was clear and noticeable. This was initially _their _sanctuary and so, how could he ignore the memories that come up? Those intimate moments, the shared kisses and embraces? The solemnity and the happiness that they've felt when they were with each other—really, how could he ignore those?

Atemu sighed to himself and propped himself to the trunk of a tree. He was tired, and it was evident in how his shoulders drooped unconsciously, and how his eyes kept closing. He felt hollow, as if his brain refused to analyze what just happened. As if it refused to think about anything and it alarmed him. He needed to be rational when he got back and when the Sealing Ceremony began. That was why he went to this place, wasn't it?

A place to think, he considered earlier. If he'd only known how unproductive he would be…

_Seth barely controlled the sound of his coughs, but it was enough to make Atemu turn around and see if he needed anything. He could see the bandage on the wound through the thin tunic his cousin wore, and he grimaced, remembering the reason for it. _

"_Seth?" _

"_Why do you do this to me?" _

_Atemu shook his head in confusion. _

"_I don't know what you're talking about." The Pharaoh approached the figure on the bed, hovering a few inches above him. He couldn't find the source of Seth's distress. Seth grabbed his hand and stilled it, enough to grab his attention. Seth's eyes were narrowed at him, a pair of blazing blue orbs that seemed to glitter. _

"_I told you to stay," Seth accused. Atemu sighed. How could he forget? He and Seth spent the past few days arguing about his safety. He didn't need a protector. Apparently his cousin felt he needed one anyway. _

"_And I told you I can handle myself."_

_Seth's chuckles turned to coughs as his entire frame wracked in the movement. Atemu visibly flinched. _

"_Stop that. You'll hurt yourself more," he cautioned. _

"_I nearly lost you," the priest whispered. _

_For a moment, the Pharaoh looked confused. "I'm right here," he replied. But the priest shook his head and looked away, finding no reason to explain further. It wasn't the time. _

"_What is it?" Atemu insisted anyway. _

"_What's annoying is that you hold no regard for your safety, as if everything will be alright if you're _**dead**_. I'm sorry, but I'm not one for tolerating ideas like that," Seth tried to be antagonistic, as if through this behavior he could cover the fact that his wound hurt terribly but he felt that it was a risk he was grateful to have taken. _

_Atemu sighed. "You cannot save me all the time," he advised. "And you cannot just gamble your life as well. My court needs you, cousin." _

"_You don't get it at all, do you?" Seth snapped. _

"_Then tell me."_

_There was something in the way Seth refused to look at him, and how he kept his mouth closed as if the secret would just slip by without his notice. There was a weird glint in his eyes, the one that spoke to him of longing and sadness. Atemu faltered. What was going on? _

"_Seth?" Atemu asked, approaching him. Without warning, the brunet wrapped his free arm around Atemu's neck and pulled him down. As their lips met, he closed his eyes and refused to see how the Pharaoh would react. He missed the fact that though initially stiffening, Atemu eventually relaxed and deepened the kiss. _

_When they pulled back, Atemu reddened. _

"_I hate that you do this to me," Seth accused softly before sighing, "I hate that as much as I want to forget you, the distance doesn't change the fact that I love you. I hate that." _

"_I'm sorry."_

"_Don't apologize." _

_Atemu held his priest's hand and squeezed gently, making Seth look at him. He tried to smile consolingly. _

"_If it will make you feel better, I feel the same way." _

As far as Atemu could remember, Seth was always a fast rider. Once, he theorized that it was due to his cousin's abnormal preference to hide in the stables when he needed to be alone. Whatever the reason might be, was given no further thought because as the sound of the horse's neighing reached Atemu's ears, he closed his eyes and knew he had been found.

He wasn't surprised to see his cousin. But he took a step back anyway, startled still by the unhealthy pallor of Seth's complexion. His exhausted and grief-stricken gaze. Atemu didn't expect that at all. Seth barely allowed his steed to stop and jumped down, heading for him.

"What are you doing here?" He shouted.

Seth stopped.

"I wanted to talk to you," he offered after a while.

"About what? I don't think we have anything to talk about anymore, cousin," the Pharaoh replied.

"What you saw, it didn't mean anything." Seth cursed inwardly. As if _that _would solve everything. As if it started this mess. When the monarch did not reply, he took it as room for a… more lengthy explanation. "I don't want to lose you."

"That doesn't really change things, though, does it?"

"Why not?"

Atemu sighed.

"Seth, I'm dying. In two days. I'm assuming you already know that. I want you to be happy. _Happier, _without me. I forgive you. If Kisara makes you—"

"She doesn't make me happy! No one else will, why don't you believe me?" Seth interjected. He pulled Atemu close and hugged him tight. "You don't have to die. Please."

Atemu shook his head and pried Seth's hands away.

"We can't be together. We aren't already, but even if we are, things aren't going to change. You're better off with someone and I—I'm sorry, Seth. You'll be Pharaoh. There's nothing else we can do."

Antagonized by the response, Seth stepped back and whispered, "Mahado wouldn't want this for you."

"This isn't about Mahado."

"He gave his life for you."

"I didn't ask him to."

"I don't understand why you insist on dying. It doesn't have to be you," Seth said.

"Why not? I have nothing to live for."

Seth's eyes widened. For some reason, he found that even if he wanted to, he had no response to voice. It was like the adrenaline brought forth by looking for his cousin faded and he was simply crashing and burning. He did not notice Atemu approach him, nor did he feel Atemu's lips on his in a chaste kiss.

"You know that I love you. But we're not meant to be together."

That broke him from his stupor and he shook his head wildly.

"Why not?"

At the barely restrained anger, Atemu found that it did not affect him anymore. Just as expected, he guessed, Seth's eyes blazed with renewed fury and hurt. He hated that he caused that pain.

"Because it's either us or them. I'd rather save them, than have us," the Pharaoh said. Instead of explaining further, or at least pacifying his furious cousin, he ran to his own steed. Apparently it was safer to hide in the palace than in this oasis.

This was the last time they would ever meet. Talk. Atemu would make sure of that. The inevitability of his death no longer scared him. No longer even affected him. It seemed—and in not so many words—that he finally surrendered to it.

"If you love me, don't follow me. I'm going to die in two days, Seth, and there's nothing you—or anyone else, for that matter—can do to stop it," he said. For a minute, he considered if maybe those were words that would be expected from a suicidal maniac. Then he realized he didn't care anymore, and he nudged his horse to gallop away. He needed to go.

He didn't have to look back to know that Seth took a step back, as if burned; horrified. That Seth winced visibly, looking paler than before, eyes wide with pain and betrayal. Atemu buried his face in his horse's mane. He felt nauseous, as if his own body wanted to reject him. _Ra, it hurts… _

"I'm sorry," he whispered to no one else.

Atemu claimed Seth's lips in a chaste kiss—his last kiss, he guessed—before breaking the grip his cousin had on him and took advantage of this temporary immobility to escape. His steed ran as it had never before, rushing away from the priest and the oasis that used to hid them from prying eyes. At the horse's speed, the wind slammed into him in the process, yet the monarch didn't feel the pain. Atemu felt so numb. So hollow, like somehow all that he was—his emotions, his passion—was forcibly sucked out of him and he didn't stop it.

XXX

Ishizu froze as she caught sight of the Pharaoh running past her like a blur. Atemu looked horrible. Grieved.

"My Phar—"

"Not now," she heard him answer. It certainly did not answer her question; but it was a direct order that even she would not dare disobey.

She heard the huge doors to his chamber slam shut, a sound that echoed in the surprisingly empty hallway.

"What's going on?" Karimu asked out of nowhere.

"I don't know."

Shadi saw them a minute later and frowned, knowing instantly what was going on. He guessed this was the time to brace themselves for an explosion… in a figurative way. From afar, he heard a loud neigh.

_Ah, there's Seth. _

XXX

This was worse than the days that proceeded Mahado's death and their break-up. Back then, it was all about the pain and the grief. Now he felt empty.

Meaningless.

Alien in his own body.

Atemu cursed loudly and punched the door. He wanted so much to get the pain out of his body, as if it was some kind of snake poison that could forcibly be sucked out of his system. He hit the door again, too numb to feel the pain caused to his hand. This irrational anger scared him. But fast as it might have came, it was also fast in fading and he fell to his knees, wearied.

When two arms wrapped around him and pulled him close, he didn't bother to struggle.

"I'm sorry," he cried. "Make it stop, Seth. I don't want this anymore."

"Shh…"

"I'm going to die," Atemu muttered. "I have to."

"I know," Seth whispered and closed his eyes as he rocked them back and forth.

When Atemu no longer trembled and cried, Seth thought it was better to not say a word.

"Why are you here?" Atemu asked. Unlike before, his voice did not contain any contempt or suspicion. The resignation in it, though a slightly welcomed change, was still as uncomfortable.

"Because I understand," Seth answered.

TBC

**A/N: Seth's side, next chapter. Stay tuned. ::grin::**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: ****This update took so long. It's embarrassing. But in other news (since I seem to make tardy updates a habit. I fail) it would be nice to observe the dynamics of every character in this chapter. It would certainly explain Seth's and Seto's habit of walking out on people. Apparently it's more than having this dramatic effect on the audience. Also, just one flashback this time. See, I can be good when I convince myself to be good. **

**But yes. Second to the last chapter, people. Review. It would mean a lot to me.**

**Part VI **

_In which certain situations ask not to hold tight but to inevitably let go and hope for the best. _

What a sight they made.

Clearly the Pharaoh's chamber was isolated from outside noise. Where outside everyone waited anxiously –knowing full well how bad arguments between the couple usually become–through hushed chatter, inside it was different. While servants and palace guards made themselves look busy that even at night, they pretended to need something from a room in the hallway so that they could pass by the chamber, in the safety of their room Atemu and Seth shared an uneasy silence, where the only sound that could be heard was Atemu's quieting sobs. Ra knew how many minutes had passed since Seth's entrance; since he wrapped his arms around his trembling lover and declared his ability to finally understand the situation.

Neither Pharaoh nor High Priest moved. It was as if everything really did hang on a balance, like standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for someone to pull them back or for the wind to topple them over. This was a fragile peace that clouded them and for the moment they were quite alright with it. They've settled for angry disputes and loud arguments in the past, they knew how falling out felt like. Right now, they simply weren't willing to go through it again.

However even with Atemu safe in his arms, albeit guilt-stricken and sad, Seth was not foolish to think that everything was back to normal. The road to normalcy was long and terribly made. Even if they tried, he knew they would never reach the end.

"I'm sorry," Atemu whispered in that sad, ragged voice that always broke Seth. He hated that he caused it; that this normally cheerful man was like this because of his idiocy.

"Nothing to apologize for," he answered almost without thinking. It wasn't that in his eyes Atemu could do no wrong. In fact ever since they got together, every time he knew the Pharaoh would do something stupid such as recklessly put himself in danger, Seth was very vocal in his disagreement. Simply put, when Seth had thought about it in the oasis, Atemu could do everything that might anger him but he would always forgive him anyway.

"Do you really understand?"

Seth evaded the question and kissed Atemu's forehead. "We're here, we have the night to ourselves. That's all that matters right now."

Before becoming a high priest, Seth had already loved how quick his cousin thought. It was fascinating-and of course he wouldn't willingly admit that. But as much as he loved it, when it made Atemu more suspicious of him, he found that maybe he hated it too.

"You didn't answer my question," Atemu pointed out, breaking their closeness so they could have a proper conversation. "I have to know. Did you say that to appease me? To pacify me?"

"You know I didn't," Seth defensively replied.

Atemu fell quiet immediately afterwards, looking thoughtful and pathetically sad at the same time. Seth was next to him in an instant, fingers deftly tucking Atemu's chin and making him look up.

"I do understand. But don't expect me to be alright with everything at once. If you were in my position, would you have taken this lightly?"

"... no."

Seth then smiled, delivering his point with a brief kiss before clasping their hands together. He proceeded to the balcony after, fascinated by the sight of the sleeping city that lay before them.

"You only have one day left," he said. He wondered if his voice cracked as he did not want it to do, and if his cousin noticed it. But Atemu remained silent, giving him the room to speak. "I would like that we spend it together..."

When Atemu still did not respond, he turned uncertainly to his lover. "If you want too?"

Atemu used to smile so brightly. His eyes would light up in mirth, sometimes complemented with mischief. When he defeated Seth in something, the smugness wasn't in the smile. It was in the eyes. After the Pharaoh's death then, Seth found that Atemu smiled less and less. Sometimes he could make Atemu smile that way, but most of the time he also failed. So when Atemu met his eyes and smiled softly, eyes glittering with happiness, it took Seth's breath away.

And he realized that he only had one day to make Atemu smile like this again.

"I would love to," Atemu answered, oblivious to the way Seth paled or to his epiphany.

Gathering his wits, the brunet nodded and leaned down, claiming Atemu's lips in a longer kiss. All was forgiven. Tomorrow was going to be a new day. Their last day, of sorts. Right now, he just had to force his brain to stop thinking and concentrate on everything else. He deepened the kiss just as Atemu pulled him close and started walking back inside.

XXX

High Priest Seth did not believe in miracles and unexplainable sources of power. Partly it was an insult to himself that as a member of the Pharaoh's court, he could not trace the source of these things. But mostly it was due to the fact that it gave somebody else unfair advantage against him, and he did not know how to counteract this edge. Once, there was a magician who visited the Pharaoh's court and requested for an audience.

_"I shall amaze the Pharaoh himself," _ the magician's bold words were.

Later on it was Seth who convinced everyone else that the man was merely a fool and a mediocre imposter at that, as well. The Pharaoh had sentenced the man to a weeklong imprisonment, convinced by the 'magician's' admission of needing enough gold to buy his ailing daughter the necessary medical treatment that would improve her health. Seth refused to voice out his opinion about the matter; however it was clear in his normally expressive cobalt eyes that he certainly disagreed with the decision.

Now that he found himself in a situation where neither his intellect nor any power known to the kingdom could save the Pharaoh, Seth wondered if maybe it was not too late to believe in the unexplainable.

Would it make a difference? Would the gamble be worth the risks?

As always, everything began with a nightmare. Seth had woken up from a dream where he was forced to watch a cobra coil around Atemu and eat him whole. Now he was stuck with his thoughts and he refused to sleep, knowing what it would bring.

"You think so loudly, I can hear you from where I am," his lover whispered.

Seth sighed and turned, meeting Atemu's half-lidded stare. The darkness in the chamber had not stopped the small sliver of moonlight to snake inside and cast itself upon them. However it was not enough to fully dispel the coldness of the night to the point that both of them lay underneath the covers, wrapped in each other's arms.

"What are you thinking about that has you staring at the ceiling all night, Seth?" Atemu asked, knowing the answer but refusing to voice it out. After the misunderstandings they had been through the past days, as much as he _wanted _to clear everything, he was not as willing to destroy this peace they found themselves settling in. It was much too unstable to rattle again. He simply refused to trust its serenity right now. He gathered he should know better than that.

"Is it too much to ask the gods to let me save you even this once?"

"Seth..."

Now it was Atemu's turn to sit up and look at his priest. The distress was clear in his eyes. But he was already seeing traces of dread and helplessness, and he did not like it. He wanted to die knowing Seth was going to be alright, at least. That was the only thing that he could ask for - because if his cousin would not handle this well, then Atemu refused to let him carry the grief for a long time. It was like stabbing himself ... just twice as painful.

"You know I won't stop the Ceremony," Seth hastened to correct. "However no matter how hard I try to understand this _completely_, I find that the idea of watching you die - worse, of me having to kill you..."

Atemu moved to quiet his lover, placing a finger on Seth's lips. Seth sighed and looked away.

"Shh..." he soothed, "look at me...""

Hesitantly, Seth met his eyes and found that he was beginning to despise their situation once more. Really, how would one let go of his loved one and be forced to watch as said loved one suffer? At the image of Atemu falling on his knees, crumpling in pain as piece by piece his soul would be torn out, Seth had to squeeze his eyes shut. Ra, the image wouldn't even go away... "

Atemu cradled Seth's face gingerly in his hands and pulled him close.

"Look at me," he whispered as he kissed each of Seth's closed eyes. "Please, open your eyes."

"We only have one day left." Seth pointed out. Less than one day, considering it was already in the wee hours of the morning. "I should have known better than to ignore you-"

"Seth, I forgive you. You did not know. But please, you have to open your eyes and look at me. See, I'm right here."

When Seth finally followed, it was for him to smile sadly and caress Atemu's face. "The only thing I'm thankful for is having this day and spending it with you."

Atemu nodded, conceding to that. He would have - and had already asked for - the same thing.

"I'm sorry," Seth whispered, pulling his cousin into an embrace.

Atemu leaned back.

"Nothing to apologize for anymore."

XXX

Luxor was a city of commerce at night, simply bustling with activity as Seth and Atemu walked down the aisle of stalls that greeted the road. They had covered themselves in coats as to hide their identities, but Seth did not need to pull Atemu's hood to know how his crimson red eyes lit up with wonder and excitement. It happened all the time. They would visit a town and Atemu would feel like it was a festival. At night, Luxor was stunning. Under the canopy of glittering stars, the city emanated a welcoming glow. The night market attracted people from different backgrounds - Jews, wayward slaves, commoners, even priests. The interested townsfolk journeyed each stall, amazed partially by the stories that were regaled to them but mostly fascinated by the products that were sold.

It was not the trinkets and little stuff that Atemu cared about, but more of what the stories were. Tales of distant lands, some he had gone to in one of his diplomatic trips as the Pharaoh, some that he hadn't. He'd hear of the Germanic tribes and the Franks. The Saxons up north, the ethnic tribes south. Occasionally he'd hear of news from the Hittites and how his ancestor, Rameses II, fixed a truce with them. Peaceful times happened because of him, and Atemu smiled sadly. A long line of ancestors who had done their best to uphold their people's interests. He wondered what Rameses felt as he surveyed the desert land, knowing without his reinforcements, he might face defeat in the hands of the Hittites. That was before their truce - and Atemu wondered, wasn't he doing the same thing today?

Seth knew this. The moment his cousin turned away and gazed at the horizon, eyes vacant, thoughts fleeing. He recognized it as the moment where Atemu was thinking about something, about his burden. He thought maybe they could have this day. Could have something that wouldn't be ruined so much by their responsibilities, by the realities of the world. But it seemed that even they couldn't have this last day as they wanted it. So he sighed and entwined their hands as if by the simple gesture, he could non-verbally say, _I__'__m here_. Whatever Atemu was thinking about, he was there.

_I__'__m not going to make the same mistake ever again_, he wanted to promise.

When Atemu squeezed their hands together, he smiled and dropped a kiss on Atemu's forehead.

The brunet turned to Atemu, opening his mouth to say something however closed it immediately as the sound of a commotion reached their ears. The first thing Seth heard was a baby wailing. If it was out of pain or fear, he couldn't make out but Atemu had already grabbed him and started running towards the direction of the sound. What greeted them had them stilling on the spot.

The baby lay in the middle of two quarreling men. One of them was holding a sobbing woman, who by the look on her face was the mother of the crying infant, demanding answers from the other man, who glared at him and promised death if the woman got hurt. Everyone else watched, all awestruck by the unconventional display of domestic problems. Seth looked at both men, wondered if they were dangerous to anyone. One of them was drunk, he could see that from the way the man swayed slightly on his feet, his eyes red-rimmed with anger and insobriety. The other one was still rational, a bit baffled perhaps by the suddenness of the events, but he could handle the problem well enough. It was the woman and the babe that received Seth's concern.

"What is going on here?" Atemu demanded, instantly getting everyone's attention. He had pulled down his hood, expression furious and they fell to their knees in respect… and fear. No one messed with the Pharaoh, no matter how good he was to his people.

"The Pharaoh!" The drunkard pointed out, releasing immediately his captive, who rushed to her baby and tried to stay away from both males as far as possible.

Seth rolled his eyes, Why yes, the _Pharaoh_, who else?

"I believe he asked you a question," Seth piped in, eyes narrowed to the man who was logical enough to give them the answers they needed. They were ruining their plan.

"We have been stalked by that man for weeks and have demanded that I give her to him," the man answered. "He used to be her fiancé, but they were not married. We fell in love and he did not like it."

Seth and Atemu's eyes met before Atemu sighed and stared at the previously fighting men.

"You have the responsibility of reporting to me both of these men's actions", he told the woman, "and if either of them behaves disrespectfully, they shall be arrested. I will not hear of this happening again."

Order made, Atemu brushed past them, followed by his high priest. As they left, the crowd dispersed and resumed to their boring lives.

Seth fell quiet after that. What was Atemu thinking?

They stopped by the well, where Atemu turned to face him, looking wistful and sad at the same time.

"I used to want a family," he confessed. "But I couldn't stomach the idea of marrying someone simply for a child … not when I already had you."

"Had?" The High Priest asked in confusion, to which his Pharaoh responded with resignation.

"Have, but up to when, Seth? Aren't I dying tomorrow?"

They fell quiet afterwards, each lost to their own musings. This was how their relationship worked: two steps forward, one step back, where a carelessly said word could shake their stability into near ruin. It wasn't like this before. Before was all about smooth sailing. Sometimes Seth wished that - but considering he would make the same mistakes anyway, he thought maybe he should stop wishing about things that were never going to happen again.

"I know you're dying and that I'm powerless to stop it," he said suddenly, catching his cousin's attention. Atemu looked at him, curious about the direction their conversation (albeit stunted) was headed. The high priest shook his head and stepped back. He met Atemu's eyes but frowned, "What I don't understand is why you insist on reminding me that every time."

"Seth…"

Atemu recognized that tone. He _knew _it, and he had promised to never hear it in Seth's voice ever again. But it seemed that he was on roll here, breaking promises and hurting people he loved. Then again—

"Don't worry about it, Atemu. It's not like I have a choice for that matter, right?"

"I tell you this so you learn not to hope for things that will not come," the Pharaoh finally revealed. He held Seth's hand and squeezed, returning the priest's earlier gesture. "I know you, and I know how badly you hope for an intervention. It will not happen, Seth."

Seth nodded, a sigh escaping from him as he met Atemu's inquiring stare.

"Can you meet me in the temple? I need some time alone to figure out some things," he requested apologetically. Atemu understood. He always did, and he did it again as he embraced his cousin tightly and whispering "Go. I shall be waiting" in his ear.

XXX

Seth had a particularly notable relationship with helplessness. It spoke to him in riddles he nevertheless understood. It flowed through him like a wave of uneasiness that he could sense immediately; this to the point where a sudden change in the tempo of his heartbeat and the chill that makes him shudder for no apparent reason could have him deduce that something was happening, that it involved either him or Atemu, and that it was beyond his control. And this helplessness frustrated him. Made him think of himself as apathetic, common little man who would someday meet an accident because he was at the wrong place, at the wrong time –

Because he hadn't known any better. Or in this case, hadn't known enough.

This was how he would always be: the High Priest who didn't have enough power or knowledge to save the Pharaoh – his own lover. The one person who would be remembered for falling short in spite of his initial advantages. He had no excuse, no graceful exit. Somehow it seemed Mahado had it better.

Right. _Mahado. _

The Pharaoh's friend. The priest with a magician's soul. Mahado, who was orphaned at 4 years old, who didn't come from any influential family, but was brilliant in his own special way.

In his loyalty to Atemu.

In his approachability and ability to understand Atemu almost effortlessly.

Mahado did everything that mattered better. Seth was the best strategist among the priests. He was the fiercest warrior, and the smoothest diplomat. He could point out the strengths and weaknesses of an enemy at first glance. But Mahado was the better friend, the staunchest ally, the better listener.

And that's when Seth, as he paced under the watchful gaze of the moon, realized that Mahado had it all figured out. Mahado failed once; in protecting Atemu from Bakura. That was his reason to pursue his suicide mission. It was to make up for what he had lacked at first; for hurting Atemu. Seth understood. Once Atemu dies – which was a certainty now – the distance would make Seth's task and wish to protect him impossible. Being locked in the Shadow Realm was no joke, but at least Mahado would be there. That was the purpose of Mahado's sacrifice. That was Mahado's role.

To take care of the person he could not have until Seth and Atemu meet again.

In the middle of his musings, Seth stopped, feeling things to be a bit clearer than before. Well, to a certain extent anyway. Then he remembered telling Atemu to wait for him, and Atemu's trusting reply. For the nth time that day, Seth cursed. He was a fool. No wonder Ishizu and Mahado often tailed him. (Of course, both of them thought he didn't know. That was why he was the better warrior among them.)

The point of all this debacle wasn't of them being the good that would triumph over evil. It wasn't them defeating Zorc and be remembered for protecting the people Atemu would give his life for. Zorc was just a means to an end. Some random pawn to the gods' perpetually on-play chess game. There were positions and roles to be played—and he needed to fulfil his promise, let Atemu go in order for the second game to commence.

The second game was theirs to win. It was going to be about them and there would be no more sacrifices. Seth was sure of that. But until then, Seth had to correct his mistakes at the present.

With that decided upon, Seth turned around and made his way back.

_The sound of a body hitting the pillar went off with a loud crack. Mahado's eyes blazed with a dangerous glint as he hatefully dropped an apathetic High Priest Seth. Their fight had attracted the attention of the people around them. Why not? It was uncommon to hear the usually mild-mannered Mahado hurtling profanities at Seth, punching him squarely on the jaw and slamming him to the nearest stone structure – which happened to be yes, the pillar. Yet despite this interest, the crowd knew better than to eavesdrop and so had walked away from the spectacle as far as they could._

"_You despicable, spineless coward," Mahado hissed. "How dare you hurt him? What gives you the right?"_

_Calmly, Seth peeled the priest's hands from his bruising shoulders. His glare went unnoticed, but the smug smirk on his face did manage to annoy the man before him. Served him right._

"_I didn't tell him to love me," Seth said. _

"_But you led him on."_

"_I do not control his feelings." _

_Mahado sneered, despising the priest more with every passing second. He was certain of Seth's intentions before; that he genuinely cared about Atemu to actually stab himself rather than let his Akunadin-possessed body hurt the surrendering Pharaoh. Mahado saw it in Seth's eyes; that determination to protect – _

"_You love him," Mahado pointed out, sure of it even as Seth rolled his eyes._

"_Believe what you want." _

"_And you are his weakness, more than everything. He'd give his life for you—" _

"_Cut it out."_

"_And any strategist would know of this. Especially you." _

"_That's enough, Mahado." _

"_So you decided to cut him off; make that weakness disappear." _

"_I said, ENOUGH!" _

_Seth's outburst had surprised the other priest. But it didn't stop him from meeting Seth's glare head on. _

"_It's not your time to play guard, Seth," Mahado answered. "You are his weakness, yet also his strength. Don't you get it?" _

"_No."_

_Mahado sighed, like a tired parent would to a stubborn child. _

"_Then let me spell it out for you. You," he pointed, "are destined to be together. In t his life and the next. There is no escape, and no alternative." _

_With that, Mahado walked past him and left him to his thoughts. _

"_Stupid Mahado," Seth cursed and walked towards the other direction, knowing what he had to do and where to go. The royal gardens. _

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This has been one hell of a ride. Thank you for the lovely reviews, and for the people who read this story. It's awfully nice to open my e-mail and find that something special to me is appreciated by some. So, really, I can't thank you guys enough. I've always been a fan of the AE arc of YGO, and I try to do the characters justice. However, I find that I've explored Seth's and Atemu's relationship enough that I fear an AU will be an inevitable product. Because of that, Straight on Till Morning will be my last AE story – and to those who have liked my AE stories, I hope I met expectations. **

**Finally, allow me to rant a bit about this story. Straight on Till Morning is from Peter Pan, as everyone's guessed. It just seems interesting when Peter Pan nonchalantly points at the star of all things. Anyone can gaze at the night sky and find the star. The point is Atemu and Seth's relationship— to me anyway—will always be a pre-cursor to Seto and Yami's. It's always going to be there, this connection in and to their past. **

**I've kept you for too long. Enjoy Part VII, everyone. See you in the epilogue.

* * *

**

**Part VII**

_In which just as T.S. Elliot had said:_

_this is how the world ends, not with a bang but with a whimper._

On any other night, the solidarity would be well appreciated; a reprieve, in the taxing life of someone who has been tasked with more than enough responsibilities. But for the currently quiet Pharaoh, who devotedly waits for his priest to come to him, this aloneness was a product of yet another misunderstanding and it was far from welcomed. Being alone meant listening to his thoughts; to fears and insecurities that have grown unnoticed. It guaranteed him more time to wallow and wade in the murky waters of his despair, of the helplessness of the situation. Not only did it do no good; more than that, Atemu have had enough of it. There was no use in mulling over things that could not be change; why bother then?

His resignation was palpable. Yet it was laced with an overcoat of bitterness: a painful realization that someone with a death sentence was less trapped than him, a monarch in his own right. Death was his destiny, an eternity of swimming in darkness was his future. At least a convict, by his personal decisions, faced his death as a payment for his crimes. To atone for his crimes. But Atemu—what had he done to warrant this fate?

At the sound of people running towards a particular direction, and incessant chatter, Atemu shook himself from his thoughts and followed, eyes gazing upwards as his attention got stolen by the parade of shooting stars. A meteor shower. Except for the first meteor, every other meteor preceded another that at a distance, which he was at, one would see rows of silver, fast-moving lines instead of separate astronomical bodies. Somehow in the process of preparing the requirements of the ritual and managing as much as he could the problems he had with Seth, he had also forgotten the significance of the eve of the ceremony. The quarrel in the street, the meteor shower; they were the essence of the night. The highlight was on spending it together, come what may, because by dawn fate would weave a different story already.

Yet where was Seth while the crowd stared mesmerized at the night sky? Where were the strong arms Seth promised to wrap around him to pull him close and symbolically protect him from anything?

They were little things, these gestures. But it spoke of the fact that Seth should have been there. With him. It didn't matter if Seth couldn't stop the ritual, or that he couldn't "protect" him. Atemu could care less about those. With a sigh, Atemu decided to return to where he sat by the temple and watched the spectacle from there instead.

Seth was most likely in the same spot that he had been left in, dealing with what he could not control and what he refused to happen. The more Atemu thought about it, the more he found that Seth could not be faulted for his disapproval. Had Atemu been placed in the same position; he wouldn't have spared the suggestion – even if it would safe a huge deal of people – a second thought, consequences be damned. They were foolhardy, them both. But Seth had let him be, had eventually given in because it was what he thought Atemu wanted. Even in his absence at this moment, really, how could Atemu feel anything but love for him?

Maybe if the priest was given enough time to think about everything—to deal with the idea, rather than be slapped in the face with it and be forced to accept it, things would be easier.

Then again, maybe not.

His cousin would, nevertheless, have come to terms with it. That did not mean Seth accepted it now any less, but clearly he was struggling, pressed for time that he did not have. This _departure _was so sudden that how everything would be after it was questionable. In fact, the idea of leaving the priest was painful enough and Atemu had deemed it wise to not think about it, but he could only imagine what its effect will be on Seth himself. Atemu wished his apologies could make things right. They didn't though, and it would be one more thing for him to think about in the Shadow Realm.

The point was, he was leaving Seth. Seth, who insulted and played with him when they were little; who antagonized Mahado because of his jealousy; who left and stayed in a foreign country while Atemu secretly pined for him. Atemu have had Seth in most of his life, and he wondered if this attachment was something he could just detach himself from. Doubtful. Just the thought of not having Seth when he wakes to find himself in the Shadow Realm, with only his thoughts to either scare or comfort him, without Seth's confidence in him?

_Oh Ra, what do I do now? _

Atemu jumped as a hand fell heavily on his shoulder. He turned immediately, not knowing who it was, but stopped. It was Seth, who smiled at him almost to the point of shyness. His lips had curled into a sheepish grin, one that did not necessarily say he was forgetful of his own mistakes, but apologetic enough to admit, 'I'm sorry it took me this long to figure it out'. Nights in Egypt were cold and windy, and it had left Seth's normally kept and hidden hair tousled. It made him look young; look his age, and Atemu missed this. This Seth who had no serious worries, who was not so burdened by his role tomorrow. With nary a word, the Pharaoh clasped his hands on Seth's arms and pulled him in a tight hug. Seth visibly relaxed and dropped a kiss on the crown of his head.

"I'm sorry," Seth whispered, making no move to distance himself. The Pharaoh thought briefly that they were the only couple who had apologies in every other conversation. Either of them would assume wrongly, or be insensitive, or –

"I'm sorry as well," Atemu replied just as quietly. If Seth was surprised, he made no word about it. Seth tilted Atemu's face up and leaned in, claiming Atemu's lips in a kiss instead.

To say that Atemu had not expected it was an understatement, but he chose not to dwell on it. He framed the brunet's face and deepened the kiss. He missed Seth.

Seth, on the other hand, sought to justify his actions; his way of thinking set to a cause-effect conditioning. Any effort to explain fell flat, however. All he knew was that he wanted this the moment an overwhelming wave of relief washed over him as he caught Atemu's silhouette. As he saw Atemu waiting for him, lost in his own thoughts, but waiting nevertheless.

"You didn't see the stars," the monarch pointed out.

"I did. They reminded me of you," Seth replied. He smiled then, and took his lover's hand, "Come. I have a surprise for you."

XXX

"Where are we off to?"

Atemu's question easily broke the silence between the couple. Seth smiled, refusing to reveal anything as he led his lover by the hand through night markets and crowds. Due east of Luxor lay the Nile, a long curving trail of water that easily reflected the moonlight with its clarity. They had reverted to quietude—pharaoh and priest—despite Atemu's initial inquirty, and it had made Seth hasten to reach their destination. As he had expected, Atemu's surprise signalled that he had successfully led them there, and he couldn't help but wryly smile at his lover, entirely proud of himself.

Upon one of his individual travels, High Priest Seth had accidentally discovered a small, noticeable slope that overlooked the river. It was a rare thing, the slope, considering the river banks were predominantly flat and planted upon. On this slope was a small patch of grass and two sturdy palm trees; nothing more. At daytime, it made – or so Seth considered – a good resting stop; however, its true beauty came at night. When the moon was high and the sky devoid of clouds, on this very slope one would see the stars brighter than ever, like brilliant diamonds on a canvas of darkness. And the Nile—most certainly the Nile was beholding to see! One could look at the waters and mistakenly think that the sky was below, not above.

There was a certain special appeal to this small spot, Seth had thought and the awed expression on Atemu's face confirmed it.

"We can gaze at the stars better here," the brunet offered, having remembered the wine and light supper he had prepared. When still Atemu did not respond, Seth faced him and was taken aback b the profound expression on Atemu's face. Perhaps, Atemu's smile had him mesmerized to the point of unresponsiveness for the next thing he knew, Atemu was already looking at him worriedly.

"Seth, what is wrong?"

"Nothing; I have been lost to my thoughts. You have a beautiful smile, did you know that?"

Atemu reddened at the unexpected compliment before cupping his cousin's face in one palm.

"Thank you, my priest. Let's enjoy the night?" He said, trying to make sense of all these but realizing it was a pointless effort on his part. He found that whatever reasons there might be did not matter in the end.

Truly it was a wonderful sight, the Nile under a canopy of stars and nothing could describe with sufficiency the wonder that swept Atemu away. They were away from the noise and madness of night life, and in this peaceful setting, it was relatively easier to concentrate on each other and the events now. By now, he and Seth had already sat on the grass, lost to their own musings but not necessarily feeling disconnected from each other at all. They have always revelled in the silence, and this time Atemu spent it observing his thoughtful-looking priest carefully. With the moon casting its reflected light upon them, it allowed him to appreciate Seth's profile more.

How he loved Seth. His heart raced at their closeness, at feeling Seth's arm snake around his shoulders to pull him close, and it was ridiculous that he could not have this starting tomorrow. Frowning at the direction that his thoughts were going, the Pharaoh leaned closer to his priest, relishing the warmth and safety Seth emanated. Clearly Seth was the only person who had the right to witness the mellow interior of such a strong character and it spoke of Atemu's unwavering trust in him. After all, weren't all who loved made themselves vulnerable? No one showed weakness and vulnerability to someone they didn't trust, else they would have long been taken advantage of, or hurt.

"Something has upset you," Seth suddenly said, an observation that caught Atemu's attention. Atemu met his cousin's eyes, knowing he would see an inquiry there. Smiling gently, Atemu dispelled Seth's concern.

"My thoughts are pessimistic today, I'm afraid. But don't worry, it will pass."

"I will listen."

"No, really, Seth, there is no need..."

Atemu cursed inwardly, hating the dismissal he had thoughtlessly uttered. Immediately he saw Seth shutting him out, his brunet a case of wounded pride and hurt. Seth only wanted to comfort him, probably as a way to make amends! "I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me. I simply didn't want to burden you again."

"When are you going to realize that you will never be a burden, Atemu? Honestly, you are stubborn. I'd do anything for you." Yet despite his words, Seth was smiling and Atemu was forgiven. The priest then reached for the wine, poured it on two goblets and handed Ateum one. "The night isn't getting younger. I say, let's enjoy this and not tarry with what we can't do anything about. Alright?"

They had not consumed enough wine to be the slightest affected by it. Atemu was certain of it. However, he was also not blind to the glances Seth was discreetly throwing his way, nor was he foolish to say he was not thinking of doing ... something else with his lover. But at the moment, it seemed that Seth was preoccupied with reminiscing about their past – which he could not be begrudged of—and had continued to talk about certain treasured memories. At a night like this, it was better to think about happier times.

"Atemu?"

"Yes?"

"I'm boring you, aren't I?" Seth looked petulant, a sheepish smile on his handsome face. To this, Atemu chuckled and shook his head.

"I am attracted to the sound of your voice, it seems, and my brain drowns out the words so it can listen," he said. The priest shook his head and eyed him fondly.

(**A/N: This is where the ratings go up, darlings; just a friendly reminder...) **

"You're exasperating."

"I learned from the best," was Atemu's cheeky response. Surprisingly, to this Seth's answer was to throw his head back and laugh, a rich melodious sound slipping from his lips, and Atemu was enthralled by it. Rarely—even when they had been together—had he heard the priest laugh this way. The Pharaoh showed his profound appreciation of it by crawling to Seth's lap and kissing him unawares. From there, it became a flurry of activity. Seth had instantly controlled the kiss, overpowering his lithe lover and switched their places so that he lay above while Atemu squirmed beneath him. Automatically Atemu's hands wound around Seth's neck as he pulled his lover closer. Never breaking the kiss, Seth's hands fell to Atemu's tunic, moving inside it until he touched air-chilled skin. Atemu gasped at the contact, allowing the probing tongue to enter as he struggled to keep quiet while Seth mapped his body.

Under Seth's slow ministrations, Atemu's breathing quickened, and from his lips smothered moans and gasps were drawn forth as the brunet re-discovered every ticklish and erogenous spot. When his hands travelled further down, under Atemu's kilt, Atemu froze and looked at Seth in alarm.

"Seth..."

"Don't worry about it," Seth answered, sucking on his earlobe and nipping it gently. Atemu arched to the touch and cried out when his manhood was gripped tightly. "Just enjoy this, beloved."

'Oh Ra, how can I not?' Atemu thought before all rational thought fled. Seth held him like a globe and every flick of his wrist, every slide had Atemu rising higher and higher. He succumbed to Seth's touch, his eyes firmly shut, his mouth slack and opened that every sound he made was voiced out. Atemu had no idea about the sight he made: surrendered and lost in his pleasure, his cheeks were enflamed with arousal, his nerves quivered under the faintest touch and his kiss-bruised lips... Seth mastered him like a musician would an instrument, and in every moan, breathy whisper of his name, Seth knew Atemu was close.

"_Tjew i a'nekh*_" Seth spoke as he dipped his head and kissed Atemu's neck. [You are my life]

"_I ib,*_" he continued by Atemu's ear. [My heart]

"Please, Seth!"

Seth claimed Atemu's lips in a fevered kiss and finished his lover off with a few quick pulls. He swallowed Atemu's cry, and gathered his lover in his arms as he trembled at his release. It took Atemu a few more minutes before he could speak, and a lot more to push Seth towards the palm tree, determined to express his appreciation with another kiss. They broke for air eventually, with a fire in their eyes and a feeling of reconciliation between them.

"This was wonderful, Seth," Atemu said later as they lay intertwined. At the same time, above them a star twinkled and Seth had noticed.

There was neither sadness nor tension in Seth's gait. In fact, he seemed to be rather comfortable with himself, a laidback attitude evident from the not-so-ramrod straight posture he normally fell in. There was his easygoing smile that Atemu had not seen for weeks, and perhaps Atemu only sought to convince himself that his lover was, at last, relaxed and saved from his depressing musings, but Seth indeed looked better. At peace. Was that not the only thing that Atemu wanted in the end?

The night was exhilarating to say the least. Despite their initial blunders, every passing minute afterwards was spent to make up for the mistakes –and how everything turned out so lovely! Quietness now hovered and Atemu found himself having no complaints, nor worries. He appreciated the simple dynamics their relationship had reverted to. With so many things running amuck, and no ready solution, he was not that pleased with complicating the only thing he wanted to preserve and protect. At Seth's abrupt halt, however, the monarch found himself staring at his priest in confusion. They had not reached Luxor yet, and with the absence of any celebratory noise, it seemed that they weren't that near, either.

"Why have we stopped?"

Certainly the place did not remind him of any particular event. They were still on the barely recognizable path back to the city, after all, and they had nothing but the stars to guide them. That was not good for anyone unfamiliar with the terrain, such as himself. But the way Seth all but pulled him here, without any trace of hesitation or doubt; it meant he knew the road more than he was telling. At the least, it meant he had been here before. Again, what was the significance? Why stop at this part of the road? Seth had not answered. Not yet.

"Clearly this is of importance to you, Seth," he pointed out.

"Do you remember the trips I went to a few months after my return?"

Atemu nodded. How could he forget? A part of him had constantly longed for his priest then, despite outward actions that spoke of the contrary. Seth was different after those trips. Those barely hidden incomprehensible glances, the unnatural fierceness when it comes to anything involving him... Oh, how Seth and Mahado fought during those times!

"You volunteered. Aye, I remember."

"At this exact moment during those trips, I realize that I was in love with you."

Seth looked at the sky above them, unaware of Atemu's surprise. This was way before the skirmish that brought them together. But they had always been fighting before said skirmish.

"I thought you abhorred me," Atemu muttered.

"You were always with Mahado. I was hurt."

"I remember your arguments. Sometimes I would think you and he were bantering spouses," he joked. "Whatever has he done to earn your ire?"

At Seth's silence, Atemu pressed, "You were jealous."

Seth chuckled bitterly, remembering quite clearly the reason to it. "Why wouldn't I? He had something that took me most of my lifetime to have."

"What?"

"Your regard." Seth glanced at him, as if daring him to refute the statement. At the lack of response, Seth sighed and shook his head. "You spent every moment with him. You trusted him. When we conjured or Ka's for the first time as your high priests, it was him your eyes alighted on. You could not contain your pride, but at my approach, easily hid it."

"I do not—never love him as I do you."

"Aye, but you trust him more, believed that he was the only one who would rather die than see you hurt." If Seth's voice broke at the end of his statement, he made no move to react on it. Instead he focused on his lover, smiling ever but sadly, Ï wanted to be everything you needed—a lover, a priest... I wanted even to be your most trusted friend."

"What changed?"Atemu rasped, throat drying up. "Why this place?"

Seth shrugged.

"These stars will never be as bright as the sun. They only shine when it is away, but they shine nevertheless. I cannot be everything to you, I know that. I have also failed. Just look at what we've gone through because of my mistakes. But I do love you, even if I cannot protect you. And I will always love you. Your death is not going to change that."

Neither of them dared speak, nor change the status quo.

Not until Atemu closed the distance and claimed Seth's lips in an insistent kiss. His heart pounded heavily as Seth's words sunk in, and he felt like it was about to burst. Atemu looked at Seth and a surge of emotion flooded him. He wanted to stay like this forever, under the stars, in each other's embrace. But that wasn't going to happen, and he needed to clarify something, too.

"You're wrong, though, beloved priest."

"Pardon?"

"You are everything to me. The only one I do not push away in my times of weakness; the only one I wish to be there at my side, is you. If Mahado and I were close, it was because he has always been fiercely protective when I could not handle seeing but never having you."

Atemu thought it wise to no longer add, _It had always been about you_.

That was clear enough after all.

Seth closed his eyes. Were they such fools all along? He gathered the other man to his arms and rested their foreheads together.

"How can I cause your death knowing all these things?" He agonized.

Atemu cradled his face and kissed him lightly.

"We must learn to let go."

"And if at the last minute, I find that I cannot?"

"You will. I trust you."

Seth sometimes wished Atemu didn't.

"Come, we have the remainder of the night to spend," he announced, changing the topic immediately. Atemu followed him and they walked back to the city with most of their issues resolved, except the most important one.

It was two hours later that the answer dawned upon a sleepy Pharaoh. He watched his priest poke the fire as they sank in each other's arms, away from prying eyes. They had decided to camp outside, and had only returned but a few minutes ago.

"Seth?"

"If I tell you that I struggle with the thought of dying tomorrow, will you still run the blade through me?"

The priest flinched at the imagery. But he was not to be left alone.

"Would you do it?"Atemu asked.

"I would."

"Why?"

"Because..." Because you want me to, Seth almost said until he stopped. There was no other solution. No alternative to the problem, and with such limited time, he was certain that many lives would be lost should the ceremony fail and the darkness successfully revived. Would he rather have his love now at the expense of many other couples and families? It would be a short-lived happiness, and it would torment Atemu so. "A lot more will die."

Atemu sounded convinced with his response, and the priest visibly relaxed.

"I wish our story had a better ending," Atemu admitted, meeting his eyes and honestly conveying the regret in his own. Seth only nodded and laid back beside him. They would sleep next to each other, that much was for sure; and they would never address the issue well enough. In the end, though, did it even matter when it only complicated everything?

"I love you," Seth whispered, "and that's the only thing I can bank on."

Atemu sighed and buried his face in his love's chest.

_I know_.

XXX

The doors opened slowly, inch by inch revealing the people that waited for them. Ishizu and Karimu had flanked Shadi, who eyed them solemnly, Millennium Scales in hand. Seth looked at every corner of the chamber, found candles down to their last wicks and hour. Behind the three priests was the altar, a daunting horizontal slab that even now Seth hesitated to approach. Somehow Atemu had caught of this intimidation for he stopped as well, staring at him with a mixture of thanks and sorrow.

"We will meet again. I promise, Seth," Atemu whispered. Not on many occasions did Seth's throat dry up and be useless; but this was one of those rare times. It felt like something was lodged in his throat, and his mind had gone blank.

What words can you say when no word is enough to convey what you're feeling?

Instead High Priest Seth framed Atemu's face with his hands and leaned in.

The kiss cried of everything he could not voice out. Every sad little detail he noticed, but could not describe well. When he closed his eyes, Seth said 'I'm sorry' and followed it up with 'This can't be our fate'. Every shared breath meant 'How can I let you go?' and as every second melted from the candles, he found himself thinking, 'I can't." When Seth stepped back, however, it was not so he could run away, or stop the ceremony altogether. Neither was it so he could convince Atemu to change his mind.

Seth looked at his lover. Took notice of the ceremonial robes, the crown, the Millennium Puzzle. Around Atemu's waist, Seth saw the dagger he gifted his cousin two years ago. It was the same blade that would claim Atemu's life, he was certain of it. And although Seth paled as he saw it, he still met Atemu's eyes and saw fear. Doubt. Alternatively, he found as well a relentless insistence for the ceremony to happen, belief that someday, they would meet again. Atemu trusted him, and he wasn't going to change his mind.

This was the intervention that Atemu had warned about last night. Seth conceded. _Alright. _

"We shall be together again," the brunet concurred.

The Pharaoh nodded and they proceeded inside together, not stopping until they reached the altar. Wordlessly, Atemu unsheathed the dagger and placed it on Seth's hand, his hand lingering for a few moments as a gesture of comfort.

"_Ana wer int*_," Atemu whispered, meeting his eyes as he laid on the altar.

"I love you," Seth repeated, "Wait for me."

"You know I will."

Seth nodded to that. If Atemu knew how difficult it was for him to breathe, he spoke nothing of it. Atemu squeezed his hand gently once, though, as if to say, _I'm still here._

"High Priest Seth, it is time."

As Ishizu started to chant, Shadi and Karimu chorused the words, and a mysterious vibrato filled the air. Seth allowed the strange music fill his lungs and drain unnecessary thoughts from his mind. He focused on Atemu, the look on his beloved's face when he laughed, when he smiled, in the throes of passion, or in the comfortable silence they often shared at night. He focused on the first time he saw Atemu after he came back from foreign lands, and the first time he protected Atemu as someone who loved him.

When the other priests' voices lulled, Seth gripped the dagger tightly and closed his eyes.

_Goodbye. _


	8. EPILOGUE

**A/N: Well, folks, here we are. Thank you for supporting this story, and for encouraging me when I had lost the will to continue. The conclusion is, regrettably, shorter than the chapters; but I find that it is a fitting end. After all, it's not nearly finished, is it? Once again, thanks, guys. I hope, despite the delay, the epilogue meets expectations. Cheers! **

**Till our next meeting, this is me signing off,**

**Starlight

* * *

**

EPILOGUE

"_When stories are first told they are often told correctly but as time passes, which it always does, they get changed bit by bit. Now it probably isn't exactly the fault of the storyteller mind you. Often times in their own minds it just sounds better that way and if the story centred around a person or an event in history, then more likely the tale will grow. They are apt to take on a mind and lives of their own, unless they are written down somewhere, which mostly doesn't happen. Soon it's more myth than fact and so many stories have passed on." – The Mellon Chronicles, Cassia and Siobhan_

High Priest Seth measured life in terms of Atemu's presence. He remembered every important detail that has Atemu in it, and regretted terribly the times that Atemu wasn't there. Seth remembered being a child and looking at the babe with magnificent red eyes and incessant cooing, promising to protect the prince forever. He remembered cradling Atemu as if the world started and ended at the flutter of Atemu's eyes and the presence of his smiles.

When your life has, for a long time, been anchored on someone's existence, how do you move on when the anchor has gone?

After the customary two-week period of mourning, the kingdom could be described as functioning. People were gradually returning to their normal lives, missing their deceased Pharaoh but deciding that their lives could not stop simply because he was dead. Activity in the market bustled, and trade flourished. Although conflicts with rebels and thieves were significantly low, security was kept at maximum. Egypt would never be caught by surprise ever again, not when their lack of preparation asked too much from them. Never again, their new Pharaoh promised.

And it made sense, this precaution. In their inability to discover a less costly solution to their problem, they have lost Atemu – and his absence was pervasive within the walls of the Palace.

Faithfully he watched over Egypt for many years. He had defended her from her centuries-long enemies, and bled and won for her name. Under his guidance, Egypt never learned fear, nor threat. But a decade was long, and there was weariness now that sucked the marrow from his bones; exhaustion that for so many years he had ignored. It returned with a vengeance, he realized, to the point that even the sight of Egypt flourishing before him no longer held the same appeal.

For a decade, Seth ruled Egypt, following his cousin's unexpected demise. That in itself was the fact. Only a few knew the nature of Atemu's death, and this selected few would certainly bring the secret to their graves. It had been a sad day when it happened. The people had looked at their deceased pharaoh's priests, asking for guidance and wisdom. None were given for the pain had been too fresh. Atemu's blood was barely cleaned from the temple. Some say the pharaoh's bloodline was cursed, marred with sudden deaths and conspiracies; and characterized by heirs hastily filling the power vacuum, whether they were ready for it or not.

In ten years, Seth held tight to his sanity; mind on duty, but heart empty and lost. Every day he yearned for the person who has already gone, missing and seeing traces of him everywhere. And he longed, oh how he longed for the eventual meeting of their souls, when they would be free and their hearts would beat like one once more. But that was a long time in coming, and now that he had fulfilled his promise, kept Egypt safe, he felt that he was ready to let go. _He was tired_.

One fateful night, when the clouds veiled the stars and the moon could barely wade through the fog, Seth drew his last breath, falling in slumber and never waking up. He was the last in the line, having refused to produce an heir. He considered it a betrayal for truly he could not stomach the thought of lying with another, but wishing for the person he wanted to be there instead. Nay, it reminded him of what he had lost. At his death, the people mourned him and once they had gotten over the initial shock, asked for the regent to be proclaimed their new pharaoh. But the court was not surprised about his death, albeit they were just as saddened. Ishizu merely bowed her head, crying softly, while Karimu sent a prayer to the gods and asked for a reunion of the two souls. So much the two have lost, and they were the only ones remaining. Their hearts were battered with the deaths of their friends, but their lives promised to be long – and these were as much a blessing for in them now lived the story of Mahado, who bound his soul to his pharaoh out of love; the story of Shadi, who sacrificed his in order the pharaoh would have a guide in the next life; and of the story of Seth and Atemu.

Surely there would be better tales of love earned and love lost. Others that did not speak of the lovers' folly, of lovers nearly losing each other at the eve of their deaths; but tales may come, yet they would not change the fact that once upon a time, a pharaoh loved his priest and was loved in return. Even if they did not have the opportunity to fully cherish and celebrate what they had, at least they tried to. Sometimes it happens: to have loved only to lose. There was hope, though. Endings were never absolute for they were beginnings as well.

Someday one of the future pharaohs would misinterpret this special relationship between the Pharaoh Atemu and his High Priest Seth. They would have these two become merely two cousins who destroyed each other because of their rivalry. Maybe if Fate had not intervened, such destiny was indeed bound to happen. Regardless, they would no longer be known as the lovers that they were. Rather, they would be the rivals, and nothing more.

It did no justice to their love.

Yet it no longer mattered.

"_We will be together in our next life. I promise you."_

They were not meant to be in this life. But they had another chance.

"_I know."_

Stubborn as they were, they would have this 'chance', even if they had to defy Fate just to get it.

_Before we turn off the lights and close our eyes,_

_I'll tell you a secret I've held all my life:_

_It's you that I live for and for you I'd die_

_So I lay here with you till the final goodbye._

_I promise you our love will carry on_

_Until time eternal, we belong._

FINIS


End file.
